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hislittlesparklejumpropequeen · 22 days ago

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Watching you

Hwang In-ho x female!reader.

Summary: In-ho sees you and his brain chemistry changes. A/N: in reader’s pov he’s referred as Young il. Sorry if it’s confusing. Warnings: Obsessive and possessive behaviour, masturbation, stalking, perverted opinions, murder, blood, kissing, mentions of arousal, mentally and physically vulnerable characters, dubious consent, non-con touching, manipulation, sadism, dacryphilia

W/c: 3,5k

It was strange that he kept his eyes on you more than anyone in the games. The moment he saw your shaking figure among the crowd of people in the green suits, he felt his breath get stuck in his throat. You were looking around with eyes that were full of fear, hands wrapped around yourself and holding back tears as others started an argument in the middle. You listened as someone complained about his shoes being so expensive, and someone asking for his phone, an old lady argue with her son and guards answering the players’s questions with patience.

He kept his eyes on you as the first game started. He saw your eyes widen when someone was shot right in front of you, and he watched you as you realise the seriousness of the game you accepted to take part in. Gi-hun was interesting to him, yes. He was searching for them, for him have been for years now. And he was brave enough to come back to the games just to find who was behind them. He respected his determination. Yet there was something about you that he could not name. Something captivating. Something that shifted things in him, made his skin sting in ecstasy as you nearly moved when the doll turned around. You looked around with those innocent eyes and blood of someone flowing down your cheek, he felt his trouser tighten. A small, tingly sensation took over his loins and made him frown in confusion. He had never taken a liking to a someone, let alone a little, fragile thing like you.

When he found the video of you playing ddajki with the recruiter, he felt himself get harder and harder as he watched you spill tears in pain every single time you received a hard slap on your cheek. The camera captured the noises you made as your body was falling backwards with every single slap. The recruiter hit you hard and In-ho wandered if you would sound the same when he pounded you hard on his bed. He took his mask off and palmed himself trough his trouser as he kept replaying the video over and over again. When he was finished spilling his seed into his palm, he wished that was your mouth wrapped around his tip instead.

When the first game finished and your number and picture still shone bright on the floor, you voted for ‘X’ and expected everyone to vote same as you. Yet you were so wrong when the last player 001 and all others voted ‘O’, causing all of you to stay in this hellhole. You felt tears fill your eyes as some people were cheering with victory in front of you. You sat down on one of the beds at the front and hugged your legs with disappointment. As you were thinking what was going to happen next, you felt someone sit next to you.

“I’m sorry, I thought staying was the best option.” Said the man who was looking at you, watching your tears flow down your flushed cheeks. You looked at his number and saw 001 in bright white font. He was the person who voted last and made the decision. You sighed and shook your head.

“It is not only you, sir. Half of us wanted to stay.” You said as you pointed at the people who had the ‘O’ banners on their right side. He did not look at the direction you were pointing at, he kept his eyes on. You were so pretty when you cried. He wandered how beautiful you would look when you were overstimulated with his fingers in you. He felt his cock twicth when you looked at him again. Your lips were plump, and the tip of your nose was red. He wandered how your tears would taste like.

“We have a winner here. I thought we could use this for our advantage.” He explained as he pointed at Gi-hun who looked very troubled not so far away from you. Your eyes were on the last winner when you felt the man beside you stand up and take few steps towards the player 456. Yet he stopped mid way and looked back at you, as if he was waiting for you to follow him. And for some reason you wiped your tears away and followed him like a lost puppy as he walked towards the previous winner of the games who was already accompanied by few guys who kept asking him questions.

And the small group was formed with two of you joining them. You did not know much about others, did not trust them meanwhile player 001 was confident and comfortable talking to them. When he sat down next to Gi-hun, his eyes pointed at the small space next to his feet, so you sat down there. Being close to him brought you a sense of safety. He was the first person who approached you in this mess of a place with kindness. You did not know him, didn’t know his name or why he was here. Yet there was a look in his eyes that made you want to stick beside him.

When everyone went to sleep, In-ho looked at your resting form. You were wrapped in the thin blanket and was curled up into a ball. He looked at your curves that were visible from the tracksuit, his mouth watered. You were so frightened and powerless. You needed someone to protect you in the games. Someone who would look after you, make sure you make it alive. He knew what humans were capable of doing in a place like this. People were going to go mad and hurt one another viciously. Would he be able to just stand and watch if you got hurt?

Your soft whimpers and cries brought him back to reality. When you woke up from your few hours of sleep drenched in sweat and tears flowing down your cheeks, he crawled to you, in the darkness of the hall. He reached out to you, from the metal bars of the beds, and held your shoulder. You squirmed in fear and was about to scream until a large hand covered your mouth.

“It’s me.” He whispered to your ear as his whole body was pressed against your back, other arm wrapped around your shoulders. He was towering over you, as you felt sweat drops make their way to your neck from your temple.

He let go of your mouth, but his touch did not leave your body when he moved to sit next to you. He was close, his breath hitting your face and neck when he looked at you with observing eyes that did not give any feelings away. His touch made your heart beat fast and quicken your breaths, yet you did not want him to stop holding you.

“Bad dream?” He whispered, his voice is low yet deep enough to make your insides shake. You nodded when tears filled your eyes again. The images of dead bodies all over the playground haunted you since the moment you came back from the game as winners. You didn’t want to cry in front of anyone, but you felt like he would not mind seeing you cry.

He nodded along with you, almost like a grown up talking to a little kid and mirror her moves to befriend her. When he saw your bottom lip tremble and eyes full of fear scan the hall of people sleeping, he felt his loins burn in need. The face you made when you were scared and felt alone was enough to make him cum in his underwear without any touch.

Without hesitation he brought your body closer to his own and his arms embraced your shaking form with mercy. You buried your face into the crook of his neck and wrapped your smaller arms around his waist. He was warm. Very warm that you felt your fingertips burn over his body. When you breathed in and out in the crook of his neck, all In-ho wanted to do was throw your body back into the bed, rip those clothes off of you and ravage you in front of dozens of people without any care. The though of fucking you, turning you into mass in front of them, giving them a show as he claimed you, sent shivers down his spine.

“I’m so scared,” you whispered, your crying voice reaching his ear as he tried to hold back a smile at your situation. You were so helpless that you were crying in the arms of the man who was the reason why you were still here. He was a stranger, who had the potential to do anything. Yet here you were, quivering against his chest and making his member throb in need.

“I’m here.” He said. And you had no chance but trusting him.

———————

The next game you were automatically given the Gong-gi game as the only female in the group. Yet your hands were shaking when it was your turns to play after player 390 completed his part successfully. When you missed two times, you were so sure you were going to die and worse, be the reason for everyone’s death in your group.

He watched you panick, drop the pebbles and fail to catch them midair. Everyone around you was getting inpatient and scared naturally. Even tho he loved the way you were struggling and feeding into his twisted desire, he could not let you die. He held your waist and stopped the trembling of your body. You looked at him under your lashes that were wet with your tears and went back to work once he gave you a reassuring smile. With that you managed to catch all the pebbles in your palm and passed the round.

It was then, you felt something was off, when it was his turn to play his own game. The top kept slipping from his hands or landed wrong on the floor that was covered in the blood of eliminated players. You wanted to step back yet could not because of the ties when he started to scream in anger and slap himself. There was a crazy, off-putting look in his eyes. It was less uncomfortable when he was looking at you, yet it was still there. His eyes made your skin crawl and stomach twist in sickness. You did feel safe around him. But not like you would feel safe with a family member, a friend, or a lover. It felt like he was a wolf who claimed a lamb, kept her on his chest and waited for right moment to eat her.

When your group managed to survive and go back to the hall, he kept to you close. His hand was on your back, leading you to your bed. When it was mealtime, he gave half of his food to you, telling you to not to worry about him when you tried to reject him. He watched you until you finished all your food. After all of you exchanged names, he watched you talk to player 388 about his time in marine and watch you laugh when he was talking excitedly, telling everyone how prideful he was about his military service. He watched your tears dry up as you listened to the conversation that was flowing in the group. Your smile made his stomach twist and his jaw clench.

Your hopes once again were shattered when people voted for “O” more than “X” and decided to continue playing the games. Young-il wiped your tears away and convinced you to get some sleep for the night. You could only relax and fall asleep when he sat next to you on your bed and caressed your head as he decided to stay awake. He looked extraordinarily strong to you. He did not need to sleep, gave his food to others, calm people down when everyone was scared, raged and pass the games like it was nothing. Most importantly, he held you close no matter what. Did not mind you cry and fail and fall. Maybe it was a sense of guilt he felt, for making you stay in the first round of voting, you thought.

——————

Next morning he held your hand when everyone was taken to the new game. It was mingle. Your group had decided to stay together. You were grateful that they had take you in and did not leave you alone. You all took your place on the platform and started to spin as the song was playing. You felt his hand get tighter around yours, reminding you that he was here with you.

You ran as fast as you can and took deep breaths when all 10 of you finally managed to get into a room. The sound of lock made you jump slightly. You saw Young il’s eyes on Gi-hun as he pulled you under his arm. The images of him looking at Gi-hun since the moment you met him lingered on your mind until the woman who claimed to be a shaman started to speak loudly in the middle of the room. As you waited for gunshots to stop and doors to open, you could not help but wonder the reason behind Young il’s weird behaviour about Gi-hun. He seemed to get along with him. Seemed to respect his ideas and experiences about this place. They seemed to understand one another, somehow. Yet that unexplainable look in 001 eyes was making you shift uncomfortably in your place.

Until last round, you had no chance but sticking beside Young il. As you entered rooms and people kept dying outside, you became more paranoid. And when it came to the last round, Jeong-bae asked how many people it was going to be this time. Without hesitation Young-il answered.

“2.” And it was it. When the song stopped and the platform stopped spinning, Young il held your hand tighter than before, and started to run to closest room. As you were trying to catch up with his pace, someone bumped into you, causing you to lose your balance and stumble midway. Young il turned around immediately and wrapped his arms around your waist. He lifted you like a piece of feather and made his way to the yellow door that was already opened by a guy. Young il pushed you into the room and threw the other guy away from the door. When you scanned the room, your eyes were met with pair of foreign eyes.

“Out.” Young il said sharply to the other man in the room.

“We were here first.” The man said, his voice cracking as he was shaking in fear. Person behind the door tried to open it. You pushed your back against the door and held it with all of your strength. There was not much time left, and you were afraid that all of you were going die in this room.

Young il grabbed the man and locked his arms around his head. As they scooped to the floor, his arms got tighter around the player 343’s neck. You were still holding the door and preventing the other player to get in. For a second Young il’s intense gaze met with yours and you couldn’t look away.

He looked into your eyes, showing no emotion or weakness as the man he was choking started to turn purple. Your breath got stuck in your throat, your knees were shaking, and your palms were getting sweaty with the scene taking place in front of you. As there were few seconds left for the countdown, Young il twisted the man’s neck. The sound of bone cracking filled the room along with the sound of door locking behind you. He kept his eyes on you, as he tossed the dead body of the side.

The lifeless body of player 343 laid on the ground and the gunshots filled your ear. The screams of people scratched your brain, and you finally managed to close your eyes. He had killed someone in front of you, broke his neck with one swift motion and he had no emotion on his face as he did it. Your heart was beating so fast that you thought it was going to fail at some point. Then the images of him came to your mind. When he knocked down player 124 and 230 as he looked down at them with those emotionless eyes, when he carelessly slapped himself in the second game, when he looked at Gi-hun as if he wanted to strangle him when he thought no one was looking, when he pushed everyone out of his way to get both of you to safety during the mingle game and now when he killed someone.

“Open your eyes.” He breathed out, his breath hitting your face. Suddenly you felt his warmth surrounding you and him towering over your head. You slowly opened your eyes and there he was. Looking down at you, his eyebrows lifted up and with a mocking look in his eyes. His face was close to yours. Yet it did not feel comforting and safe like it did a night ago, when he was comforting you after a nightmare.

“What did you do?” Your voice was shaky and sounded terrified as you tried to look at the dead body that was in the corner of the room. He did not let you look away with his fingers finding your chin and holding it tight. He held you with those hands that just took the life of someone. You felt chills going down your spine.

“I made sure that we survived.” He whispered without breaking eye contact with you. You could hear soldiers cleaning up the mess outside of the rooms.

“You killed him.” You tried to shake his touch away, yet he didn’t let you. Instead, he got closer, until you were trapped between him and the door. His hot breath made your skin tingle, and his touch made you wanna cry.

“Yes.” He said, and his lips touched your cheek that was wetted by your tears. His lips planted a soft kiss onto your skin. The kiss made you feel dizzy and your knees weak.

“For you.” He continued. His words made you freeze in your spot. His lips traced over your skin like a ghost and reached the corner of your lips. “Only for you” He kissed the side of your mouth, softly, gently, with mercy. You wanted to rip his hands off of you, and run away. The floor beneath your feet was slippery with the blood of eliminated players. If you slipped and fell, would he let you go?

“All for you.” His lips found your chin, then your nose, then your other cheek. He did not rush or hold you harsh enough to hurt. Yet knowing that he had just killed someone with those hands made you wanna throw up.

Your tears dropped to his lips, and he licked his lips as if he was dying over thirst. And when he made eye contact with you again, it was the first time you saw a clear human emotion in his eyes. An emotion he did not try to hide or was afraid to show; yearning. You did not know if it was for you or winning. In both cases, it terrified you to your very being.

“Stop!” You said as sobs filled your mouth and he pressed his forehead against yours hard. You felt him shake his head, his arms wrapping around your fragile, little body compared to his strong form.

“I will give you everything you want, you need.” He said and pressed his lips against yours. Without waiting, his tongue made his way into your mouth, forcing your lips to open up for him. You felt the dizzy feeling take over your head. Your ears were ringing, your mind was foggy as he kissed you harsh, deep. There was no power left in your body, so you just let yourself to his arms.

His teeth crushed against yours and he was biting every corner of your lips until he drew blood. The irony taste filled your senses, made you jump. You did not know if it was you bleeding or him. But there was blood everywhere. Covering your tongue, your lips and staining your chin as your shared spit escaped from the corner of your lips. You felt your body burn all over. Your back was arching like a cat to get any closer to him, and there was a soreness between your legs that made your clit throb. You felt shame fill you and guilt making you wanna cry out. Instead, you kept kissing him, devouring him, eating him as much as you could.

You whined and pushed your head towards him when he parted your kiss with the sound of lock. The door was opened. The third game was finished. There was still a dead man in the room. Your mouth was covered in blood, making you look like you just feasted on someone. And his eyes were on you, watching you.

#squid game #squid game 2 #front man #hwang in ho #young il #lee byung hun #frontman x reader #hwang in ho x reader #young il x reader #squid game x reader #squid game 2 x reader #blood and gore #he’s so daddy

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choerypetal · 21 days ago

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Love at first sight. / Squid Games!Men

summary; a little prompt for each men in squid game x reader.

also my english isn't my first language so i do apologize for a few errors! enjoys x

including; in-ho, thanos, myung-gi, dae-ho & gi-hun

In-ho:

Praise yourself for catching In-ho’s attention amidst the chaos of the games. Not only did he manage to maintain his composure, but he also came to terms with the truth—it wasn’t his mind playing tricks on him, but his heart betraying him. He had been ensnared in a dangerous blend of love and death. And no matter the cost, he was determined to ensure your survival, even if it meant faking your death and arranging for the guards to escort you to his shelter.

At first, his actions were subtle—a few fleeting glances, quiet assurances that you weren’t alone. He took it upon himself to ensure someone capable stood between you and danger. This resolve led him to seek out Gi-hun, cornering him with a whispered plea. “I’m not asking for much,” In-ho murmured, his voice low and firm. Gi-hun’s brows knit together as he glanced at you, understanding little of the request but sensing its weight. Though the urge to question why In-ho couldn’t protect you himself lingered, Gi-hun ultimately accepted—he, too, had his own plans to carry out.

Yet, watching Gi-hun hover near you ignited something unexpected in In-ho—a simmering, unanticipated jealousy. His blood boiled harder than he cared to admit.

It was Gi-hun’s proximity to you that set him on edge.

While 001 had extended a friendly hand, In-ho never anticipated him stealing you away entirely. The realization unsettled him, and during the chaos of the Carousel games, panic began to creep in. When he noticed you were nowhere to be found in the room, it nearly consumed him. The thought of losing you made his fists clench, and for a brief, irrational moment, he contemplated throwing a punch at Gi-hun. But it wasn’t until the final elimination, when the doors unlocked, that relief washed over him. There you were—your silhouette unmistakable behind Dae-ho.

In that instant, he didn’t hesitate. Rushing toward you, his breath hitched, words failing him. A shaky exhale escaped his lips, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming relief. He almost laughed—a scoff of incredulity—before pulling you close, his hand instinctively cradling the back of your head. Without a second thought, he leaned in, his lips pressing a firm but tender kiss to your forehead.

“Silly,” he muttered, his voice tight with emotion. “I never should’ve trusted Gi-hun to keep you safe. Damn it, I thought I’d lost you.” The panic in his voice caught you off guard, the weight of his words sinking in. You hadn’t expected such raw vulnerability from him—not now, not like this. A soft chuckle escaped you, an attempt to lighten the moment. “It’s okay,” you reassured him gently. “Dae-ho found me right away and made sure I was safe.”

That revelation gave In-ho pause, but he filed it away for later. For now, none of it mattered. You were alive and unharmed, and that was everything.

The kiss on your forehead wasn’t just a gesture of relief—it was a silent declaration. You were his, and no one—not Gi-hun, not Dae-ho, not anyone—would ever take you from him again.

Thanos:

Once a retired rapper, Thanos now found himself thrust into a life-and-death struggle. Among his generation, it was no surprise that some idolized him—his presence commanding a respect so intense, it bordered on worship. To them, he was pristine, untouchable. But this adoration didn’t sit well with everyone, especially loners like you, who preferred to navigate the chaos without attachments.

Ironically, that aloofness was one of the many reasons Thanos found himself drawn to you.

In the early days on the island, Thanos made no effort to reveal his interest. If anything, he mirrored your indifference, matching your cold detachment with his own. But when you began spending time with Myung-gi, the dynamic shifted. Thanos hadn’t expected it, nor did he like it. Watching you bond with someone else left a bitter taste in his mouth, awakening a tension he couldn’t ignore. The loner mindset had been his strategy for survival—a simple equation: fewer people, fewer complications. But your presence complicated everything, especially when it came to your effortlessly beautiful face, which he found himself stealing glances at far too often.

It didn’t take long for his resolve to crack.

Thanos had made himself a promise: to keep his distance, to ignore you as you ignored him. But that promise shattered the moment Nam-Gyu let slip a confession Thanos had sworn him to secrecy about. That little fucker, Thanos thought bitterly, though his anger was tempered by necessity—he needed Nam-Gyu to survive. Yet, when the truth reached you, it unraveled him in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

Instead of drawing you closer, the revelation pushed you further away. Your avoidance became more deliberate, more pronounced than ever before. It stung more than Thanos cared to admit. For the first time in a long time, he was unprepared—for your reaction, for the way it tightened a knot of frustration and longing deep inside him.

Which only added more tension between the two of you.

The final games loomed, a trial where survival would demand more than just cunning—it called for a kind of ruthless cleansing. Thanos knew, without hesitation, that when the moment came, he’d be the first to grab your hand and shield you. Even if it meant overreacting, even if it jeopardized his own chances, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. Certainly not to Myung-gi, if it came down to that.

“You know...” he murmured late that night, his voice low and almost hesitant. Your back was turned to him, your body stiff on the thin mattress. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, couldn’t even steal a glance. Not after everything. The weight of his breath lingered against the back of your neck, and you flinched slightly, betraying your nerves. His presence, so close and unyielding, was suffocating yet magnetic.

“Tomorrow is... big,” he continued, his words faltering as his gaze shifted across the dimly lit dormitory. For a moment, his eyes locked on Player 333, who sat sharpening a weapon in the corner—a stark reminder of the danger waiting ahead. Thanos clenched his jaw, then turned his focus back to you.

“If we’re not careful...” he trailed off, his voice softening, almost breaking. “Who knows if I’ll ever get to see your beautiful face again?”He exhaled sharply, frustrated with himself, as if admitting even that much was a risk. “I know it’s—”

Your head snapped toward him, your brows furrowing into a glare sharp enough to cut through the tension between you. For a moment, silence hung in the air, charged and heavy. Then, your voice broke it, calm yet biting. “If you keep this up, you might be the one ending up with a bullet in the face,” you said, your tone so nonchalant it bordered on cute—a contrast that left Thanos momentarily stunned. He blinked, almost scoffing in disbelief, one hand pressing dramatically against his chest.

“Ouch,” he drawled, his lips curling into a grin. “I’m hurt, sweetheart.”

Your eyes narrowed into daggers. “Do. Not. Call me sweetheart.”

Before you could say more, Nam-Gyu chimed in from his corner, a mischievous smirk playing on his face. “I bet she’s in love,” he teased, his words practically dripping with mockery.

Thanos’s cocky grin widened at that, his eyes gleaming with a maddening mix of pride and amusement. The sheer arrogance in his expression made your fingers twitch, itching to slap that smug look right off his face. But instead, you gave him one final glare—a death wish in your eyes, though to Thanos, it looked like the beginning of a love story.

“I bet she is,” he echoed, his voice soft but certain, the words carrying a weight of truth that made your chest tighten. He didn’t try to stop you as you turned and walked away, but his gaze lingered, following every step you took. Oh, how you had him wrapped around your finger without even realizing it. A wimp for you, and you alone.

Myung-gi:

Everyone knew who Player 333 was—you included. Unlike many in this room who were desperate to claw their way out of debt, you knew Myung-gi only by name. You’d heard the rumors: how he’d gotten his girlfriend pregnant, how his past was littered with mistakes and secrets. But something in you—a stubborn spark of hope, perhaps—whispered that he wasn’t as bad as everyone wanted him to be. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than the stories let on.

Myung-gi had noticed you, though. He’d seen the way you were with Jun-hee—the way your smile seemed to ease her fears, how your arms would wrap gently around her petite frame after every game, grounding her, giving her the space to breathe. The quiet strength and warmth you brought to her felt almost unreal, a motherly presence in a place devoid of comfort.

It was that tenderness, that undeniable light, that struck him like a blow to the chest.

Myung-gi was in love.

And he hated every single moment of it.

Why? Because he knew himself. He knew what he’d done to Jun-hee—how he’d left her while she was pregnant with his child, drowning in debt and fear. He’d been a coward, an asshole, and he knew it. That self-loathing festered, a constant reminder of his failures. And yet, it was exactly why he didn’t expect you to see him as anything other than the man he despised.

But fate had other plans.

Your first real interaction with him came after he saved you—something neither of you had anticipated.

It happened during the Bathroom games, where survival left no room for personal grudges. Confronting Thanos wasn’t at the forefront of Myung-gi’s mind, but then he heard it—your name, slipping from Thanos’s lips with such filth that it ignited a rage Myung-gi didn’t know he was capable of.

Everyone knew your past as an escort within the crypto community. Your name wasn’t hard to find, whispered in private conversations and occasionally tied to scandalous wallets. But Myung-gi knew better than to judge. Still, hearing Thanos—the retired rapper—speak of you like that, as though you were nothing more than a commodity, was the last straw.

“She was good for a foreigner. Not many—”

That was as far as Thanos got before Myung-gi’s fist collided with his jaw, cutting him off mid-sentence. The sickening crack of impact echoed through the grimy bathroom, followed by a faint splatter of blood. Myung-gi emerged from the stall alive but seething, his knuckles raw and his breath ragged. As he stepped out, his gaze immediately locked with yours. Jun-hee stood beside you, clinging to your arm for reassurance, but the look on your face was unreadable—a mix of surprise, understanding, and something softer.

A small, almost imperceptible smile crept across Myung-gi’s lips.

In that moment, he made a silent promise: no matter what it took, he’d make sure both of you got out of this alive.

Dae-ho:

Dae-ho never believed in love at first sight. With everything he’d endured in his life—the trials, the sacrifices, the relentless pursuit of strength—he saw himself as a knight in shining armor, bound by duty but never destined for romance. That belief held firm until he met you.

It happened during the Carousel game. Like In-ho, he’d noticed you before—your stoic demeanor during Green Light, Red Light had left him quietly impressed. The way you moved, swift yet calculated, managing to evade the statue’s unrelenting gaze with precision, was nothing short of remarkable. It was then that something shifted in him. Against all reason, Dae-ho found himself believing in love at first sight.

At first, he thought he was imagining it. He even considered pinching himself, blinking twice to dispel the notion. But the feeling persisted, undeniable and maddening. It wasn’t until later, when you tended to his wounds after one of the brutal games, that he finally saw you up close—and the full weight of your beauty struck him like a blow. Your lashes fluttered delicately as you focused on your task, your fingers gentle but firm as you dabbed rubbing alcohol onto his injuries. He hissed at the sting, his lips parting in a soft groan of pain.

“Be still, please,” you murmured, your tone calm but commanding. Something about the way you said it—the quiet strength in your voice—silenced his protests. He nodded, his muscles relaxing under your care, though the tension in his chest was harder to soothe.

For the first time, Dae-ho felt vulnerable—not because of his wounds, but because of you.

“You know…” His voice was low, almost hesitant, but there was a softness to it that made you pause. You could’ve sworn his lips curved into the faintest smile. “I never would’ve thought I’d see you like this—healing me. Back at the Carousel, I swore to myself I’d keep you close, that we’d find the door as quickly as anyone else. But then… the next thing I knew, Thanos had taken you before I could…”

He trailed off, his words tinged with shame. The vulnerability in his voice made you glance up at him, your fingers stilling as you finished securing the bandage. His eyes widened at your sudden attention, and he immediately began to stammer.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

You interrupted him with a soft sigh, sliding the remaining bandage back into your pocket. “Don’t apologize. We just weren’t lucky, that’s all. I wanted to prove to myself that I could handle it—that I wasn’t just someone who had to count on others.” Your gaze softened as you added, almost reluctantly, “But… I have to admit, not having you there in that room—it was horrible.”

Your quiet confession was enough to undo him. Without a word, Dae-ho wrapped his arms around you, wincing slightly as the movement pulled at his wounds. Still, he didn’t let go. His embrace was warm, protective, and when he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead, it felt like a promise.

“Nevertheless,” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet reassurance, “I’m just glad we made it through. That you’re here with me.” His lips quirked into a small grin as he added, with a teasing lilt, “And that I get to cuddle with you for another night.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his words, the tension between you easing for a moment. For now, at least, you both had each other.

Gi-hun:

Unlike the others, you weren’t a player. But you knew Gi-hun from the previous game he was in. He was so certain you had died right in front of his eyes back then that when he saw the mask ripped off your face—revealing you as one of the Guards—his shock was palpable. Another Guard had been taken hostage by the remaining candidates, and though you could have cursed every word that came to mind, you found yourself frozen, your voice stolen by the chaos.

In-ho was the first to recognize you. He knew you were on shift at this hour, but what he hadn’t expected was the look of sheer horror that crossed Gi-hun’s face when your name escaped his lips.

“Y/N...?” Gi-hun’s voice trembled, disbelief heavy in the air as though he was trying to confirm he wasn’t dreaming.

“You know them?” one of the players sneered, their stolen gun now aimed squarely at Gi-hun. Bodies of your co-workers—faces you barely had time to register—lay scattered across the floor, lifeless, just feet away. The metallic tang of blood filled the air.

But this time, Gi-hun wasn’t about to let anyone lay a finger on you. He remembered the vow you both had made:

"We belong to each other. And I will get you home."

With those words etched into his resolve, Gi-hun made his move. Chaos erupted as the gun exchanged hands, bullets flying. The air was filled with deafening roars of defiance and the sickening splatter of blood.

In the end, In-ho stood back, his heart cold and unyielding, as he watched Gi-hun fall. The final shot rang out, and his lifeless body crumpled to the ground. Blood speckled your cheek, and you stared in stunned silence at the empty shell of a man you had once loved.

From the shadows, a familiar voice cut through the carnage, low and mocking.

“Welcome back home, love.”

You turned toward the source, and there he was Gi-hun—his gruesome smile sending chills down your spine.

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angelseraphines · 26 days ago

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ೃ⁀➷ do you think you’d kill for me, one day? ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ hwang in-ho x player!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header! there is also a part one to this imagine, playing dangerous!

˚ ༘♡ the room plunged into darkness, and the air grew heavy with anticipation. bursts of violet and rose-red light erupted like fireworks, each pulse brighter and more jarring than the last. the lights burned into your retinas, blinding and relentless, painting the room in frantic, chaotic hues. shadows danced wildly across the walls, twisting and writhing as if they were living things. a smooth, mechanical voice rang out, tranquil and serene, “two.”

˚ ༘♡ you could feel your heart hammering in your chest, each beat echoing louder in your ears than the voice itself. your eyes scanned the chaos, flicking from face to face, desperate to make sense of it all. young-il, player 001, had already pieced it together. there were only fifty rooms, but one hundred and twenty-six people remained. at most, one hundred players would survive.

˚ ༘♡ suddenly, everything moved in a rapid blur. young-il, who had been quietly explaining what he believed would happen, was no longer talking. his hand shot out, gripping yours with a force that left no room for hesitation. his touch was steady, commanding, and before you could even process what was happening, he was pulling you forward. there was no time to think, no time to question.

˚ ༘♡ your feet stumbled beneath you as he dragged you through the chaos. panic gripped your chest and clawed without mercy, your breaths coming in searing, shallow bursts. ahead, a yellow door loomed like a shelter in a storm, sanctuary, a chance of survival. sweat trickled down your temple, stinging your eyes, as the two of you surged toward it. so close. you were so close.

˚ ༘♡ then the blow came.

˚ ༘♡ it was sudden, vicious, and it knocked the air from your lungs in an instant. a sharp, heavy kick to your stomach sent you sprawling to the cold, unforgiving floor. pain exploded through your abdomen, radiating outward until it felt like your entire body was on fire. you gasped, choking on the air that refused to return to your lungs. blinking through tears, you managed to look up. a tall, wiry figure stood over you, player 285. his face was set in stone, his eyes harsh and callous. you were nothing to him. just another obstacle to trample over.

˚ ༘♡ pain fogged the edges of your vision, but fear kept you moving. trembling, you tried to push yourself up, your arms weak and shaking beneath you. the countdown timer echoed in your mind like a death knell, each second slipping away faster than the last. a sinking realization clawed its way into your thoughts, you might not make it. the notion wrapped itself around your chest, squeezing until it was hard to breathe.

˚ ༘♡ young-il was at the door now, his moderate frame blocking the entrance as player 285 lunged at him, desperate to get inside. young-il didn’t waver. with a strength you hadn’t seen in him since he bludgeoned players 230 and 124, he wrenched the metal door open wider and grabbed player 285 by the collar. his grip was iron, unyielding. in one swift motion, he threw the man backward into the frenzied crowd, far from the door.

˚ ༘♡ “go!” he barked, his voice cutting through the chaos. the authority in his tone sent a jolt through you, and your legs moved on instinct. you scrambled to your feet and stumbled into the yellow room, the door slamming shut behind you. relief should have washed over you, but it didn’t.

˚ ༘♡ the room was drenched in horror. the walls and floor were streaked with blood, its metallic scent sharp in the air. in the corner, a man, player 343, sat quivering. his eyes were wide with terror, his hands twitching uncontrollably as he stared at you and young-il.

˚ ༘♡ young-il leaned against the door, his chest rising and falling heavily. the muffled shouts and pounding fists of player 285 echoed from the other side, but they barely registered. there were three of you in the room. the rules were clear. only two could stay. someone had to leave, or none of you would walk out alive.

˚ ༘♡ “please… please, we were here first…” the man stammered, his voice weak and desperate. his hands clutched at the wall as if it could somehow shield him. he made no move to fight, his stout body rooted to the spot.

˚ ༘♡ your gaze went to the countdown timer. twelve seconds. the world seemed to shrink, the weight of the moment pressing down on you in a suffocating fog of despair. your voice broke as you turned to young-il. “i’ll go,” you whispered. “if i don’t… we’ll all die.”

˚ ༘♡ the words tasted bitter, wrong. every fiber of your being screamed against the thought of stepping outside, of waiting to be executed in cold blood. but what choice did you have? standing there, all three of you frozen in fear, would only ensure everyone’s death.

˚ ༘♡ young-il’s face remained unreadable, his dark eyes blank as he stared at the man in the corner. then, with an abruptness that made your stomach drop, he moved.

˚ ༘♡ in a single fluid motion, young-il lunged at player 343. before you could process what was happening, his arm locked around the man’s neck in a crushing grip. player 343 thrashed, his limbs flailing wildly as he clawed at young-il’s arms, his face distorted in a mask of pure terror.

˚ ༘♡ your breath caught in your throat as you watched. the man’s struggles grew weaker, his movements slowing, until they stopped entirely. the sound of his neck snapping echoed through the small room, sharp and sickening.

˚ ༘♡ yet it wasn’t solely the act itself that made your stomach churn. it was young-il’s face. his expression was not cold or cruel, it was empty. hollow. there was no anger, no remorse, not even determination. merely a terrifying absence, as though he had flicked a switch and turned off everything human inside him.

˚ ༘♡ player 343’s body slumped to the floor, lifeless. the timer hit zero. the strobing lights stopped, and the door unlatched with a hiss. outside, the metallic scraping of corpses being dragged away filled the air, accompanied by blaring gunshots.

˚ ༘♡ you turned away, bile rising in your throat. your body shaking as you pressed yourself against the wall, unable to shake the image of the man’s lifeless eyes, his neck bent at an unnatural angle.

˚ ༘♡ “are you alright?” young-il’s voice was soft now, almost tender. you flinched at the sound, your mind unable to reconcile the concern in his tone with the monstrous act you had witnessed seconds prior.

˚ ༘♡ you forced yourself to nod, though the movement felt feigned. “yes… yes, forgive me.” your voice was shaky, but you tried to steady it. “i’m not used to… to seeing things so shocking.”

˚ ༘♡ young-il studied you for a moment, his melancholic eyes searching your face. “i frightened you,” he said simply, his voice flat.

˚ ༘♡ “you did what you had to do,” you murmured. “it’s not your fault. this game… it’s twisted. it forces us to do the unthinkable.” you glanced toward the door, unable to stop yourself from shuddering at the sight of masked guards dragging bodies through the blood-soaked corridors, leaving thick, smeared trails of scarlet ichor. “let’s go back.”

˚ ༘♡ young-il nodded and stepped out first, his broad shoulders slumping under an invisible weight. you followed, your legs heavy as you cast one last glance at player 343’s stiff, unnaturally contorted body.

˚ ༘♡ “you must understand,” young-il said as the two of you walked towards the exit. his voice was low, as though he were speaking more to himself than to you. “i didn’t do it for me. it wasn’t sadism. it was because you deserve to go home. you’re a good girl, i want to see you leave this place unscathed so you may see your loved ones again and lead a normal life. there are some who are too far gone for saving.”

˚ ༘♡ his words pierced the air between you, as if they had a tangible weight, sinking deep into your chest. you drew in a shaky breath, the lump in your throat rising as you fought to find your voice. “mr. young-il,” you called softly, barely above a whisper.

˚ ༘♡ he halted mid-step, the faint scrape of his shoe against the smooth, polished ground breaking the silence. slowly, he turned, his dark eyes locking onto yours. there was something unreadable in his gaze, something that burned quietly, akin to embers buried in ash.

˚ ༘♡ “i never thanked you,” you managed, the tremor in your voice betraying the emotion you tried to suppress. “you saved my life. i owe you my existence.”

˚ ༘♡ a shadow of a smile flickered across his face, fleeting and hollow, like the ghost of a feeling long forgotten. it never reached his eyes. “you owe me nothing,” he said, his voice low and rough, each syllable weighed down with exhaustion and something heavier, something unspoken. without another word, he turned away, his movements deliberate and slow.

˚ ༘♡ you stood still for a moment, your heart constricting painfully in your chest. the sight of his retreating figure, sent a ripple of unease and gratitude coursing through you.

˚ ༘♡ you forced yourself to follow, each step dragging as if the weight pressing on your chest had seeped into your limbs. the silence between you was stifling, so heavy it seemed to press against your ears, drowning out everything else. you longed to speak, but the words caught somewhere deep inside, trapped and unwilling to surface. so you trailed behind him, your steps hesitant and uneven, as though tethered to him by an invisible thread.

a/n: my second squid game fanfiction! i am so thankful for all the support and kind messages i received on my first hwang in-ho imagine! please let me know if you have any other requests! 🤍

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wtfaniii · 22 days ago

Note

oneshot in-ho x reader whos a player not bc of debt but because she was investigating with gi-hun? in-ho falls in love w her and protects her during the games (he knew abt her as he had stalked gi hun and his team duh)

thank u🙏🏻

Just when I read this I had just uploaded a one-shot more or less with that theme of the researcher girl.

I love it, thanks for reading🤎

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Paparazzi

Summary: A private detective that Gi-hun had hired to investigate those games he participated in three years ago, is taken against her will without knowing that a certain man with power and money knew absolutely every detail about her.

Warnings: Just some harassment from this sexy man, violence and inappropriate language. Also, I made a modification to one of the games so that the reader could be with them

Note: Your wishes are my command! Orders will remain open and I will try to respond as soon as possible.

Her job was supposed to be just to do some research, collect names, dates and addresses, but fate had other things in store for she.

—Form lines to advance! It will be harder for the puppet to detect you that way —Gi-hun shouted to the players who were still alive after that massacre.

The girl was shaking uncontrollably. Unfortunately, she hadn't managed to get behind someone and now the doll was in her sights. Her hands didn't stop moving and clearly noticed how one of the weapons from heaven was pointing at her.

—Please... —She whispered shakily, yeah... maybe she was a coward but it's only because survival is not his specialty.

"Player 455" heard one of the guards through his communicator, he aimed directly at the head of the trembling girl but before pulling the trigger he heard the voice of his leader "Don't shoot, let her continue" and without protest he obeyed him order.

In a gilded room, with a huge screen in front of a single sofa and a small table next to it, rested the man who led and maintained order in these games.

Drinking a little more whiskey, In-ho kept his eyes on the screen and with the remote control he focused on player 455, the poor girl was terrified, it was not the first impression he expected from her after having read her entire file.

He had read that she was a great detective, top of her class, she was cunning, intelligent, and had a couple of master's degrees completed, but seeing her afraid of dying almost made him laugh.

It was amazing how being face to face with death changed people.

—Nobody shoot her —he added over the radio without taking his eyes off the screen.

He could see the girl's confusion at seeing thatwas still alive despite moving very slightly.

In-ho knew everything about her, he knew what she was weak on, her strengths, weaknesses, her way of operating, he even knew about that beloved cat she had in his childhood and died of old age.

He had taken the time and dedication to investigate even the smallest details about her, it was the least he could do after almost discovering his identity.

The detective was so close to discovering the entire empire of these games that he had to be her brought together with Gi-hun by force so as not to let her finish the task.

He twisted his lips as the whiskey vanished and the first game, green light, red light, was over.

He didn't want her dead, or at least not for now, until he knew a little more about her, one could almost say that she had the potential to be part of this if she weren't so correct.

He put on his mask and went to the control center.

[...]

Just as she thought, some players approached Gi-hun for advice for the next game, there were only those who believed in his words because some others called him a 'liar'.

Among them was player 001, whose name was claimed to be Young-il. He was no fool, he wouldn't say his real name without being sure how much information she had about all of this.

As night fell in the bedroom everyone was sleeping peacefully, except for the girl who was sitting in the middle of her bed playing with his pillowcase, folding it over and over again and then unfolding it and repeating the same act.

—Are you having trouble sleeping? –001 asked, approaching her, who shifted a little and made room on the bed for him to sit next to her.

—My head works better at night... —She murmured, looking at him and smiling friendly.

He looked down at her hands and how the moved on the pillowcase, her were precise and firm. —You know how to tie good knots.

She had many talents and In-ho knew them all.

Or well, almost all of them.

Her ability to tie excellent knots was developed by her father, who was captain of a fishing boat that she also sailed on from time to time.

They locked gazes again in silence. In-ho considered that long-distance photos were nothing compared to being face to face with her. For two years he had been investigating her, he had sent several guards to follow her closely for one reason only. At first considered her a threat. Her intelligence and curiosity could have unmasked him, but then he started following her out of routine.

Afterwards he just kept his gaze on her out of habit and finally he had her face to face.

—What's wrong? —She asked with a frown as noticed the intense gaze on his person.

—Nothing, you should rest, we must have energy for tomorrow's games.

When he was about to stand up and go to his respective bed but she stopped him by holding his hand. The girl, seeing his inappropriate act and with more confidence than she should have, quickly let him go. —Can we keep talking? Honestly... I'm too distressed to sleep right now.

—Of course...

The two continued to talk about trivial matters for a couple more hours, they tried to keep it low so as not to wake up the other players but every now and then they received an annoying 'shhh' from someone nearby who longed to be able to sleep peacefully.

Until she finally fell asleep with head resting on In-ho's shoulder, he didn't move, instead, he let her sleep and settled down so they could both rest better.

The next day, during the next game, they formed teams of six people.

Once they were all together, along with a pregnant woman named Jun-hee with the number 222, they sat on the floor as ordered and shared the games.

The activity was to play a series of games and each time they won they could advance, all this with their feet tied together.

It would be simple, each one was good at something and that made it easier for them to continue, they were the last players to participate which was good for the girl, so she wouldn't get nervous under the gaze of the other participants and as if heaven conspired in his favor one of the games was about making a rhombus with a rope.

—I did it! —She shouted euphorically showing the perfect rhombus in her hands made with rope and on the first try, the guard made a circle and the voice said "pass"

The others celebrated with her as they advanced, until now they achieved the games at the first opportunity and had plenty of time but when they reached the part where they had to spin a top on the ground Young-il lost his sanity after so many failed attempts.

As she bent down to pick up the top once more and wrap it in the string 001 began to curse and beat himself.

—What the hell is happening to me? I can't do anything right! I'm useless —She looked at him startled every time he hit himself, until she interrupted him by slapping on the left cheek, managing to silence him and making his head turn just a little.

In-ho's fake drama to scare them was going great until this sudden blow happened, he didn't expect it but there he was, looking at her with surprise and astonishment.

—You have to calm down! —She shouted, handing him the already finished top. —Try it again and if we die I swear I'll kill you.

He nodded and took the toy, she used those words to lighten the mood and try to give him confidence (which of course she did) but eyes don't lie and her gaze begged him to do it, she didn't want to die.

Miraculously he managed to spin the top and they moved on to the last game which Gi-hun was about to lose if it hadn't been for In-ho, although the last move was not correct he shouted "he did it" this being a small order camouflaged for the guard to give the affirmative signal.

They didn't know it but at that moment they would have died.

She was ignorant of this, she didn't know that if it weren't for In-ho she would already be dead since "green light, red light"

Unwittingly, In-ho saved her at every opportunity, protecting her life without realizing that perhaps following her had already become more than just a routine.

Little by little she got under him skin, first it was in his mind and now...

#in ho x reader #hwang inho x reader #hwang in ho #squid game x reader #squid game fic #in ho squidgame #squid game #frontamn x reader #squid game season 2 #Young-il x reader #lee byung hun

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chuulyssa · 14 days ago

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── ★ the one bed trope™ with the squid game men

teaser the guards cleared out too many beds after the last game, assuming there are far fewer survivors than expected. so when your group stumbles into the dormitory, you realize the horrible truth: there’s only one bed for every two players, and your bed is missing!

starring inho gihun (drabbles) & daeho sangwoo ali (hcs) x gn!reader genre fluff fluff all fluff, some nightmares, some crack

a/n wasnt gonna watch s2 but then i saw the lee byunghyun edits and sjsjs theres only few chars here because i havent watched the whole season :( i dont think ill be watching the whole thing any time soon, jus waiting for s3 to drop before watching it all together

inho / youngil / the frontman / 001

youngil stared at the guards while you stared at the bed in front of you. it looked stiff and scratchy, and barely wide enough for one person, let alone two.

“we can share. i don’t mind,” he had said to you, though he had looked tense as well. he sat on the bed, allowing you to scoot over. he laid as close to the edge of the cot as possible.

“oh, it won’t be necessary.”

“well, what other choice do you have?”

you sighed and nodded, awkwardly laying down next to him on the bed. as your shoulders touched each other, he relaxed visibly, though he was still lying on the edge, and that scared you a little.

“stop lying on the edge like that. you’ll fall off,” you warned.

“i’m fine,” he mumbled, staring right up at the ceiling. you kept looking at him, not minding the three times he had glanced your way pointedly at all. “don’t stare.”

“hm, why not?”

“it makes me feel strange,” he said simply.

you nodded, your hands instinctively reaching to your arms to shield yourself from the cold. there was only one blanket with only one bed after all. next thing you knew, you felt the blanket being nudged towards you by youngil’s foot.

“i saw that; it’s not very subtle, you know.”

“what’s not very subtle?” he asked innocently. then he shifted his body closer to yours. “it’s not because of you, okay?” he muttered quietly. “i just didn’t feel like falling off.”

“are you asking for cuddles now?” you snickered.

“no,” he replied gruffly, though his eyes softened slightly at the sound of your silent laughter.

“nuh uh, i think you’re cold as well,” you lifted the blanket up to accommodate him as well. you then glanced at him expectantly. he hesitated for a moment before slipping under the blanket, taking the moment to tightly grasp your hand. you smiled, resting your head above his shoulder on the shared pillow.

you woke up in the middle of the night to find him softly murmuring your name in his sleep. he looked peaceful, beautifully so. you brushed your hand on his chest to wrap it around him, and felt him waking up as well.

“hush, go back to sleep,” you whispered to him, and he raised an eyebrow at nothing in particular. his eyes were still closed. then he let out a tiny giggle and tightened his grip on your hands.

the guards executed this one perfectly, right as per orders from the frontman; hwang inho will make sure to reward them later, but for now he’d rather stay in this shared bed with you by his side.

seong gihun / 456

“i guess it can’t be helped then,” gihun said simply, sitting you down on his bed and pulling the covers over you. “sorry if i snore by the way.”

“what do you mean? where will you be sleeping?”

“on the floor, of course.”

“no, you’re not,” you shook your head, patting the empty space beside you. “i still have some place left here for someone.”

“oh, then let me find someone who can’t find a partn—”

you pulled the man down onto the bed, his face crashing against the pillow. throwing the covers over him as well, you turned to face him, muttering, “you really aren’t the sharpest tool in the shed.”

“no, uhm, what if i hog the blanket? that would be unpleasant—”

“i can live with that.”

gihun blinked rapidly. “i don’t think i should be sleeping. what if someone attacks?”

“relax, they’re keeping watch.”

“i think i should keep watch with them,” gihun gulped at your proximity.

“well, i don’t. and you need sleep; have you seen yourself?” you laughed.

gihun beamed at the sound. “then how about I tell you a story?”

“a story?”

“yeah, to make you happy.”

“why though?” you said tiredly.

“to make you laugh. i like seeing you laugh,” he said genuinely, and you nodded in response. his eyes lit up and he began, “so there was this one cow, and it had a baby cat—”

…

“gihun?”

he snored.

“gihun!”

he snored again.

did he really fall asleep mid-sentence? you sighed, shaking your head before snuggling up to him. he unconsciously draped an arm over you in his sleep.

throughout the night, he kept tossing and turning, before—

smack !

you clutched your face where gihun’s hand had just made contact. before letting out the loud cuss you wanted to, you peeked over to see if he was asleep. and sure enough, if the snores hadn’t let it be known earlier, then the closed eyes did.

“this dumbass,” you muttered, nuzzling your face into his side.

but what could you do either way? if you complained, he’d be mortified and force you to switch places, and you’d lose a chance to cuddle with him. so you instead figured the occasional smacking would be worth being the first person to see his hair sticking out in every direction with his sheepish grin in the morning.

a/n: i’ve only got hcs for the others; sorry guys i prefer my old men inho and gihun :P

daeho / 388

he insists on taking the less comfortable side of the bed

even if that meant he barely has any space MY GNELTMAN

at some point his hand will brush yours (because its an ff duh) and he’ll get all startled like :O

but he won’t move away because he decides he likes it

we all know the trauma this man carries :( so don’t be surprised when his grip on your hand loosens in the middle of the night and his face scrunches up because he’s having a nightmare

just please cuddle with him :(( he’ll try to play it off like it’s nothing but know better!

when you quietly offer comfort, his defenses will crumble, and he’ll whisper a quiet thank you to you

in the morning he’ll wake up before you and realize just how close the two of you are.

he’s been bearhugging you in his sleep and you’re reciprocating it? hes so confused like ??????? do you wanna get choked or sum yes you do

he’ll just quietly stare at you as if he’s in a daze. he’s got that lovesick smile and all, just silently looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen you are

he just as silently fixes the blanket on you because he wants to offer as much comfort as you did last night to him

then he’ll gently apologize to you for disturbing you, smiling to himself when you grumble in your sleep

sangwoo / 218

this little shit

he’ll pretend not to care about you or about the bed or about the entire situation at all

but you can see how he tries to be as subtle as possible when adjusting the pillow under your head to make sure you’re comfortable

you’re practically begging him to accept his feelings atp but this man is a menace

as soon as he saw the one bed he started calculating how much space you’ll take and how much he’ll get

if you shift closer in your sleep he’ll freeze for a moment but he won’t pull away

if you move a lot in your sleep he won’t say anything just yet

but expect to be bombarded with complaints when you wake up in the morning

he watches you out of the corner of his eye, something he describes as “just trying to protect you” by “keeping watch” but you know he’s just dazzled by your beauty who isnt

he’ll lie awake for a while staring up at that huge piggy bank that his future lies in, and he knows he can’t love you like he wants to, but he hopes that just this once his brain will accept what his heart feels

when the sunlight hits his face in the morning, he’ll look so peaceful that it makes even ali question his mood

all the while gihun is just staring in horror at sangwoo like he got some puss

ali / 199

THE POOKIEST POOKIE

he’s so shy UGH i jus wanna gobble him up sjsjsjkgnskjn

but he can’t help smiling softly when he realizes how comfortable you seem to be around him

he’ll offer to sleep on the cold hard floor and insists you take the blanket for yourself, but duh you don’t allow that

so with a grin on his face he lies down next to you

he asks you if you need more space at least 10 times, he’s that nervous

the blanket stays on you though, he can’t risk you feeling cold or uncomfy because of him GNELTMENANN

he’ll stay awake if you want someone to talk to, or to make sure you’re warm enough, or even just to admire you

but if you don’t want that, he’ll pull an aurora and fall asleep so quickly you don’t even realize it

his hand stays brushing against yours under the blanket though, and you feel so warm and fuzzy next to him

he’s a snuggler, so there’ll be times where he’ll shift very close to you in his sleep, not realizing the hand he’s keeping on your waist or the head he’s resting on your chest

someone points it out in the morning and he’s so flustered he apologizes profusely even though you keep telling him you didn’t mind it all

definitely says something like “i slept with you, remember?” because he doesn’t realize it’s an innuendo

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greengoblinswifey · 24 days ago

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Beneath Chaos—Hwang In ho/Player 001 x Fem!Reader

summary— as the two of you become more intimate, you uncover Young-il is not who he claims to be. He’s revealed to be the Hwang In-ho, the mastermind behind the entire game. As he manipulates you with his affections, you begin to question everything you thought you knew about him with the line between love and manipulation becoming increasingly blurred

warnings— age gap(reader is in her 20s, he’s in his late 40s) the usual squid games violence mentions, manipulation and deceit, fingering, choking, nipple play, oral(f!receiving), praise kink, body worship, mirror sex, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare.

a/n— requests are open but i take a while to get to them, patience <3 like and reblog <3

Part I

It was a war zone. Screams and shouts echoed through the space as players turned on each other, desperation driving them to violence. You’d managed to stay out of it for the most part, keeping close to the quieter players, but tonight, the group had decided it was time to go after the organizers of the game.

“Stick with me,” Young-il, the player who had stuck by your side since the start, urged.

You nodded, clutching your arm. “Where are we going?”

He tightened his grip on your wrist. “Trust me. I’ll get you out of here.”

The two of you weaved through the chaos, narrowly dodging bullets as guards closed in. One of them lunged at you after having their gun taken, and before you could react, Young-il used a gun to shoot them.

“Keep moving,” he barked, his voice unusually firm.

As the two of you made your way through what you called a maze, a steel door loomed and you couldn’t help but notice how methodical Young-il was. He fought with precision, taking down and guards and helping the group as you pressed forward.

“In here!” he said, dragging you through a hidden corridor behind the door.

Your heart pounded as the sounds of chaos grew fainter. “Where are we going? How do you know about this place?”

He didn’t answer, his jaw clenched as he led you through the dimly lit hallway. When two guards appeared, you froze, expecting them to attack, but Young-il stepped forward, raising his hands.

“It’s me,” he said coolly.

To your shock, they stepped aside, lowering their weapons.

“What the hell?” you whispered, staring at him in disbelief.

He turned to you, his expression unreadable. “I’ll explain everything. Just stay with me.”

You followed him through the hallway, each step filling you with dread. At the end of the corridor, he pushed open a heavy door, revealing a sleek, high-tech room filled with monitors.

You froze in the doorway. The screens displayed every corner of the facility, the dormitory, the games, the guards. It was the command center.

“What is this?” you demanded, turning to him.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached to a table and picked up a black mask that had been hidden.

“You’re the organizer of the games?” you whispered, recognizing that he was what they were after.

“I wanted to tell you,” he said quietly, stepping closer. “But I couldn’t. Not yet.”

“You’re the Front Man?” Your voice trembled as the realization hit you like a freight train. “You’ve been running this whole thing?”

“It’s not that simple,” he said, his tone laced with guilt. “I didn’t want you here. I never wanted you to get hurt.”

Tears blurred your vision as you stepped back. “You lied to me. All this time, I thought—I thought you were one of us. I slept with you!”

“I did what I had to do to protect you and—forget that,” he said, taking your hand firmly.

You pulled your hand away, anger bubbling to the surface. “And this is your idea of protection? Letting people die?”

“I’ve kept you alive, haven’t I?” His voice softened, and for a moment, you saw the man you thought you knew. “I brought you here because it’s the only safe place left. Please, just trust me.”

The heavy doors to his quarters slid open, and he guided you inside with a hand on your back. The room was cold and sterile, lined with screens showing every corner of the games. You felt a shiver crawl up your spine as you realized how removed this place was from the chaos you’d just escaped.

He stood by the console, running a hand through his damp hair as his chest rose and fell with controlled breaths. He was fighting to keep his expression neutral, but you noticed the faintest flicker of something else, a strain, like he was holding back.

“I need to explain,” he said, his tone carefully measured.

You crossed your arms, your voice trembling. “Explain what? That you lied to everyone? To me?”

He exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening as he walked closer. “I had no choice. My name isn’t Young-il. It’s Hwang In-ho. I entered the game for a reason, to infiltrate and dismantle this from the inside.”

There it was again—that careful modulation of his voice, as if he was reading from a script. But the way he avoided your eyes gave him away.

The real truth you were unaware of was that he didn’t care about dismantling anything. The truth was, the deaths, the violence, it didn’t matter to him. The only thing he cared about was you. His sweet, pretty little thing.

“What about our friends?” you asked, cutting through the silence. Your voice cracked as you thought of the people you’d fought beside. “What happened to them?”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “Don’t worry about them,” he said coldly. “It’s just me and you now.”

“Don’t worry?” you repeated, your voice rising. “They were our allies, our—”

“They don’t matter,” he interrupted, his tone hard. “You matter. I’ve done everything to protect you. Every choice I’ve made, every lie—it was all for you.”

You stared at him, unsure whether to believe the man in front of you. His eyes softened as he stepped closer, his fingers brushing over your arm. “I know it’s hard to trust me right now. But you’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

You shook your head, your mind racing. “I don’t even know who you are right now.”

“You’ll see,” he murmured, his thumb grazing your knuckles as he took your hand. “You’ll see that everything I’ve done has been for you.”

He straightened, his voice firm again. “You can get cleaned up. There are clothes for you in the bathroom.”

You walked into the sleek bathroom, its stark white tiles almost blinding under the fluorescent lights. A stack of fresh clothes sat neatly on the counter, along with a towel. The sound of water running filled the room as you stepped under the stream, letting the heat wash away the violence of the night.

You hadn’t heard him enter until you felt his hands on your waist. “In-ho?” you gasped, turning to see him standing behind you, naked, water dripping down his hair.

“I told you,” he murmured, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. “I’m not leaving you alone.”

Before you could respond, his hand tilted your chin upward, and his lips were on yours. The kiss was slow, his fingers tangling in your wet hair as he deepened it. You felt his other hand slide to the small of your back, pulling you closer until there was no space between you.

“Is this your way of making me trust you?” you whispered against his lips, your breath hitching.

He chuckled softly, his forehead resting against yours. “Maybe.” His voice dropped to a near whisper. “Or maybe I just can’t stay away from you.”

For a moment, you let yourself get lost in it, the warmth of his lips, the weight of his arms on your naked body. But in the back of your mind, the doubts lingered, like a dark cloud that wouldn’t leave. As his lips trailed down your neck, you fought to push the thoughts away, telling yourself you could question him later. You really wanted to argue, to pull away, but the warmth of his hands against your wet skin, the way his breath fanned across your neck, made your protests dissolve before they even formed.

“I can feel how tense you are,” he continued, his fingers tracing slow circles along your hip. “Let me take care of you. You don’t have to do anything.”

You swallowed hard, the heat from the water mixing with the heat of his touch. “I don’t know,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

“Yes, you do,” he countered softly, his lips skimming your jaw. “You know I’ll make you feel good. I always do.”

His hand moved lower, his fingers slipping along your thigh and feeling a slick wetness completely different from the water, and you couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through you. “See?” he said. “Your body knows. It always knows.”

His fingers teased higher, the pads of his fingertips grazing your clit with a deliberate slowness that made your breath hitch. You leaned against the tiled wall for support, your knees threatening to give out. Pleasure ran through your body and you opened your eyes to stare into his dark ones as they locked on you. They broke away from you, looking down at your breasts that were cascaded in warm water before leaning down and swirling his tongue over them, his fingers still rubbing your clit.

Soft whimpers left your lips even though you tried your hardest to suppress them. You bit your tongue as he took your nipple between his teeth and bit down gently, a finger now slipping inside your wet pussy.

“Look at you,” he whispered, his voice filled with quiet praise. “So beautiful. So perfect for me. Your body is a masterpiece.”

Your head tipped back, water running down your face as his fingers found your sweet spot, the pressure just enough to make you gasp. “In-ho,” you breathed, your voice trembling with equal parts of protest and need.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his free hand moving to cradle your face, tilting it toward him. “I won’t let you fall. Just trust me.”

He moved his hand back down to your breast, kneading it as you involuntarily arched into his touch. A small smirk played on his lips and he leaned down, placing a kiss on yours. Another finger found its way inside your pussy, as his thumb skillfully rubbed your clit, increasing your pleasure. His fingers curled, and he used his free fingers to gently pinch and pull on your nipples as you tried to stop the soft moans from leaving your lips.

The sensation was overwhelming, his touch unrelenting, and the praise spilling from his lips only heightened it. “That’s it my good little girl,” he coaxed, his lips brushing against yours before capturing them fully, swallowing the sounds that escaped you.

His kiss was possessive, almost desperate, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of anyone hearing you but him. His fingers thrusted faster inside you with an expert rhythm, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he whispered against your lips, his voice low and intoxicating. “So perfect, every part of you. All mine.”

You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as an orgasm built inside you. “That’s my girl,” he murmured. “Let me see you cum, just for me.”

His fingers went faster and your body gave in, the release was swift and all consuming, leaving you trembling and moaning his name in his arms. He held you close, his hands steadying you as your breathing slowed.

“See how good that felt?” In-ho murmured, his lips curving into a small smile. “It can get even better.”

A flicker of shame passed through you, how could you let him do this, knowing what was happening just outside these quarters? The chaos, the danger, the people you had left behind. But the moment his hands trailed down your waist, firm and grounding, the doubt began to dissolve.

“In-ho,” you whispered, though your voice betrayed you, shaky and soft.

“I know angel,” he said gently, his forehead resting against yours for a moment. “But don’t think about anything else right now. It’s just you and me here. No one else matters.”

Before you could reply, he dropped to his knees. The sight of him kneeling before you, his dark hair dripping with water, made your breath catch.

His hands found your thighs, spreading them slightly as his lips pressed kisses on your pussy. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice husky. “Let me show you.”

Your hands instinctively found their way to his hair, your fingers tangling in the damp strands as his lips engulfed your throbbing clit. He worked with slow, deliberate care, his mouth trailing heat over your pussy.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered between kisses, his breath warm against you. “So good for me. You always are.”

His tongue flicked over your clit fast, better than your fingers or anyone else could ever feel on you. He licked from your entrance back up to your clit, swirling his tongue and suckling like a starved man.

Your grip in his hair tightened as a low sound escaped you, and he let out a quiet chuckle, clearly pleased with your reaction. “That’s it,” he murmured. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear you.”

For a moment, all thoughts of the world outside were forgotten. The only thing that existed was the feel of his lips and the steady stream of praise falling from them.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice reverent yet commanding. “I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

He ate you out like he had something to prove. Like he was showing you that no one else could care for you so much that it reflected in how they pleasured you. His tongue slipped inside your pussy, thrusting gently as you shivered and let out soft whimpers that made his dick hard. All that clouded your mind now was his tongue, exploring every inch of your needy, quivering pussy, licking up and down and slurping on your clit.

Your grip in his hair tightened again as your breaths turned shallow, your body trembling under his touch. He moved with such precision, as though he knew exactly what your pussy ached for. The sound of the water cascading around you only heightened your senses, every touch, every flicker of his tongue sending waves of pleasure through you.

“Come on sweetheart,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a low, rumbling praise that sent a shiver up your spine. “Just cum for me. Be good for me.”

Your fingers clenched in his wet hair, and your body obeyed, your orgasm spilling over as the pleasure became too much to contain and you squirted in his mouth.

“Good girl,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your clit one last time before he stood, his hands trailing up your sides to pull you against him. You could feel the strength of him, solid, grounding you as you tried to catch your breath.

He leaned in, his mouth capturing yours in a heated kiss, his hands sliding down to your hips. “See how good I can make you feel?” he murmured against your lips.

Before you could respond, he turned you gently, guiding your hands to brace against the tile as the warmth of the water poured over you. His lips found the curve of your shoulder, trailing kisses along your neck as his hands explored your wet, naked body.

“You feel so perfect,” he whispered, his voice filled with quiet reverence. “I won’t stay away from you, you know that?”

As his hands gently groped your ass, you could feel his hard cock pressing against you. His breath was warm against the back of your neck, his words soft but full of lust. “I need to fuck you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

“Please- please do,” you whimpered.

You could feel the way he was responding to you, his cock against your ass telling you everything you needed to know. Your pulse raced as you gave in to the moment, not wanting to fight the pull between you. You both let out low moans as he entered your tight pussy from behind, halting for a second to give you time to adjust to his sheer size. He was so thick, stretching and filling you in ways you knew no one else could.

He began steadily rutting into you, the sound of skin slapping amplified by the water making him chuckle lightly. His lips pressed against your neck as your pussy gripped his cock like it never wanted to let him go.

His voice was a little hoarse as he whispered, “You feel so fucking good.”

His hands shifted, one sliding around your neck, the pressure just enough to make you gasp. You leaned into it, feeling the pleasure rise inside you. With every thrust, he took his time, drawing out each moan, each squelch of your pussy that sent your heart racing.

He looked down at your ass bouncing against him, and you swore his cock throbbed inside you. With his hand still around your neck, the other reached in front, rubbing rough circles on your clit as his cock hit your g spot repeatedly.

“Relax,” he whispered softly. “I’ve got you. Cum on my cock.”

His words, his touch, it was all part of this undeniable force pulling you closer, and you gave in, your pussy soaking his cock buried inside you, surrendering to the moment, feeling more alive than you’d ever thought possible these last few days.

After drying off, the steam from the shower clung to your skin. The mirror fogged up just a bit from the warmth, but it only added to the intimacy of the moment. His hands gently cupped your waist as he stood close behind you. You could see his reflection in the mirror, his gaze intense as he met your eyes through the glass.

“You’re breathtaking,” he whispered, his breath warm on the back of your neck. His hands traced your sides slowly, memorizing every curve, every inch of you. “From the moment I saw you, I knew I had to protect you.”

The words made your chest tighten, a mix of emotions swirling within you. You’d never felt so seen, so cared for, as if everything about you mattered to him. He continued, his voice low, full of reverence, “You’re my priority. I would do anything for you. No one else matters but you.”

He stared at you in the mirror as his hard length entered you again. He moaned into your ear, the deep sound going to your pussy and making it throb as he began fucking you again. Your mouth fell open, the intimacy of the moment sending ripples of need through you. His large hands cupped your breasts, groping and tweaking your nipples as you met the roll of his hips, fucking him back as he pounded your pussy.

The mirror reflected the way his eyes softened as they traced your brown skin, his admiration for you evident in the way he held you. He kissed your shoulder, your neck and then your temple, the feel of his lips on you making you shiver.

“No one else matters. They don’t fucking matter, only my pretty little angel,” he murmured

With every thrust, he showed you just how much you meant to him, his actions speaking louder than words ever could. You could feel the care, the devotion, and the unwavering desire to be close to you, to cherish you in some lowkey sick and twisted way. It was a rare and overwhelming feeling, one that made your heart race and your pulse quicken.

“Every.part.of.you,” he murmured, thrusting with word, his lips brushing against your ear, “is.perfect.to.me.”

You couldn’t hold on much longer. He was right at the edge waiting too. Your hand reached behind him, bringing his head down to suck on your neck, his eyes still locked onto yours in the mirror as you squirted on his cock. Your pussy drenched him, your juices trailing down your thighs and his as you convulsed with him still inside you.

“That’s my good girl, fuck, I’m gonna cum too, deep inside this tight pussy. Take it for me sweetheart,” he groaned.

He let out a deep, guttural moan and you hummed in content, feeling his hot load fill you to the brim.

As your highs passed, you could feel the air between you slowly easing. His lips brushed against your temple, soft and tender, grounding you. His voice was gentle but firm, “I’m here. It’s just us now. That’s all that matters.”

His words were soothing you in a way that only he could. With delicate care, he cleaned you up, his touch surprisingly gentle despite everything that had just happened. Then, he led you to the bed, helping you lie down as he dressed you slowly, making sure you were comfortable.

“You’ll get all the answers you need,” he said quietly, his hand brushing a strand of your curls away from your face, “in due time. Just trust me. Be patient.”

You let out a soft breath, not fully understanding everything, but something in his words made you want to believe him. Trust. What a word. It was so simple yet so heavy. Could you really place it in his hands, when everything else felt so uncertain?

You looked up at him. “Trust,” you echoed, “you’re really good at making that sound easy.”

He returned your smile, though it was tinged with something darker, something unreadable. “I don’t need you to trust me now. Just know I’ll never let you go.”

4K notes · View notes

maruflix · 15 days ago

Text

CAVE CANEM #oneshot #squidgame #thefrontman

Cave canem. Beware of dogs. In the ruthless games, there are countless hounds looking for prey. Oh Young-Il promises to be your shield, your shepherd, your guardian angel— but you soon find out that it’s often the unassuming ones who are the most dangerous.

feat. the frontman / hwang in-ho / oh young-il　　⎯⎯　wc. 2.5k

cw: female reader, yandere, unhealthy relationships, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, manipulation, squid game spoilers, i’ll use all of his names & nicknames here so don’t get confused, i do not condone yanderes irl, no beta we die like all 455 players in season 1

It’s funny how tragedy brings people together.

It has only been twenty two hours since you entered the twisted battle royale with 45.6 billion won dangled on top of you, but you’ve found companionship in fellow participants: Player 456 Seong Gi-hun, Player 388 Kang Dae-ho, Player 390 Park Jung-bae, and Player 001.

Oh, Player 001.

“How are your wounds?”

You look up to see Player 001 — or, as he introduced himself to you, Oh Young-il. His eyes gleam in worry as he takes in your appearance: hair disheveled, knee bruised, sleeves rolled up to reveal the scratches littering your hands.

You’re just glad you didn’t get killed during the Red Light, Green Light stampede.

“This is nothing,” you assured him with a genuine smile, “thank you for helping me.”

Young-il pauses. Then, as if remembering something, he reaches into his pockets and hands you a small carton of milk. “Here. You must be dehydrated.” He watches as you gratefully take it, instantly drinking the contents, “Don’t worry about the next game. We’ll get through it together.”

Tears are brimming in your eyes at the kind man’s encouragement. You let him take your hand and nod at him, smiling. “Thank you, Young-il-ssi.”

Young-il gives you one last smile before climbing back down to rejoin the rest of the group. His movements alerts Jung-bae, who mindlessly throws a glance his way.

Jung-bae instantly pauses. He knew from the start that Player 001 is not a simple man, but the expression on Young-il’s face is nothing short of terrifying, like a tiger eyeing its’ prey. He follows Young-il’s line of sight and finds you, curled on one of the beds.

A chill runs down his spine.

II.

You don’t know how you got through the Six-Legged Pentathlon, but you did.

Chosen as the one to play ddakji — it’s not like you sucked at it, but you were scared you would be a burden to your teammates — your hands couldn’t stop trembling.

The squares of ddakji felt like rocks in your hand, your shoulders heavy by the fear of dragging everyone down. Their encouragement and cheers merely heightened your anxiety.

That was, until a hand gently clasps your own. “Don’t think too much about it. You said you won more times than the ddakji guy, didn’t you?” Young-il’s eyes twinkle, his shoulders lax, as if he’s not currently playing for his life, “Well, you won’t receive slaps if you fail, so go wild.” It’s amazing how he manages to silence all your fears.

You flipped the ddakji on your first try.

III.

In-ho knew it from the start, but the reality of it still disgusts him. Humans are selfish creatures, blinded by greed, driven by instincts.

He sighs, looking at the results of the vote— 139 for ‘O’ and 116 for ‘X’. One hundred and thirty nine people marching to their own deaths like brainless maggots.

He sneaks a glance your way and sees that you’re shuddering. His heart drops to the pits of his stomach. Slipping away from Gi-hun, he makes his way to you. He keeps on surprising himself: joining Player 456 in the games, cheering with the others during the pentathlon, and now comforting you?

But In-ho is not one to ruminate over his actions too much. He knows what he wants, he gets what he wants, and right now all he wants is to hold you in his arms.

“Young-il,” your eyes instantly land on his and he wonders how it will feel to hear you call him by his real name, “I’m scared. I’m so scared, I don’t want to die!”

He’s beside you the next second, catching you before you can fall to the ground, strong arms wrapped securely on your waist. In-ho falters for a fraction of a second, but his hand quickly shoots up to caress your hair.

Receiving the kindest act for the first time in many years, you can’t help but to cry in his warm embrace, letting out all your frustration and fear. His touches are so tender, so serene, and being enveloped in his tall figure makes you feel protected.

In-ho calms your sobs with gentle shushes, rubbing circles on your back. He was unsure then, but his heart is determined now— he wants you, he’s got to have you, and there’s nothing under the seven heavens that will stop him.

He shudders at the thought of having you all to himself. In-ho can barely control himself right now, when you fit so good in his arms, your skin brushing against his. What would it feel like? To have you next to him every second of every day? He’d shower you with all of him— all his riches, all his affection, all his time.

First, the two of you will have to exit the game safely.

His grip on you tightens as he lifts his gaze from your trembling figure to the several pink guards stationed near the door. In the distance, they straighten their posture in alarm.

Even among the many faces of the players, they can locate their boss in a heartbeat — the Front Man is still the Front Man, even if he’s amusing himself by playing dress up. The way he carries himself is so telling, they have no idea how the players are none the wiser to the wolf hiding amongst the sheep.

... And right now, their superior’s glare speaks volumes about what he’s conveying.

A warning.

IV.

‘One more game,’ they said, ‘it’ll be fun,’ they said.

The rotating stage under your feet is spinning at a controlled pace, yet you feel like you’re going to throw up. The light feels blinding, the gasps from the participants making your head spin even more.

Amidst all the chaos, Young-il’s hand clasping yours serves as an anchor.

“You okay?” His voice is as gentle as ever, unworried.

Even Gi-hun, the former winner of the games, is not exempt to the anxiety and apprehension that shadows the rest of them, but Young-il has never showed any signs of stress— like he has a safety net... or like he’s very sure of his own abilities.

You nod, grateful that he’s allowed you to stick by him like glue all this time. He squeezes your hand in encouragement, smiling.

“Two.” The woman’s voice announces cheerily. In an instant, the crowd erupts in disarray.

Young-il looks around. “Stick close to me,” he murmurs before pulling you with him towards one of the rooms. Not wanting to be a burden to him, you quickly fall in line, matching his steps. His back is very comforting as he cleverly navigates the chaotic hall, avoiding the other players.

Just when the two of you reached the door, a player appears, crashing into the two of you and sending you tumbling away from Young-il. Your world spins as you struggle to pick yourself up, searching for him.

Thankfully, you locate him almost immediately. A few steps away from the door, Young-il is strangling your attacker. “Get in! I’ll be right behind you!”

Fueled by adrenaline, you nod frantically, moving to enter the room. But there’s already another person inside.

True to his word, Young-il quickly scrambles to the room, slamming the door behind him. He immediately takes note of the anomaly, his expression dark.

“I-I was here first!” The stranger sputtered, shuffling away from Young-il.

There are loud bangs coming from the other side of the door and you quickly hold onto the lock, tears now falling from your eyes. “Sorry!” You yell, ”Sorry!”

“Five. Four. Three.” The countdown continues mercilessly.

You look back, “The other guy—!” but your words are caught in your throat.

Young-il has the man in a chokehold. For a moment you had no idea why he’s handling the guy so aggressively when it’s obvious that he’s more scared of the two of you than the two of you are of him.

“Two.”

“Young-il!”

“One.”

CRACK!

You scream. The man slips from Young-il’s hold, limp.

Lifeless.

Young-il’s gaze meets yours. There’s an emotion you can’t quite place on them, but it’s quickly replaced by that of horror. “I-I had to do it.” Tears start to brim on the corner of his eyes, his hands visibly shaking, “I had to-” he desperately crawls away from the dead man as he covers his face in terror, “I’m a monster, I-”

Crying, you kneel next to him, pulling him into an embrace, “No, you’re not,” assuring him in between sobs, “it’s this game, it’s the game’s doing, it’s not your fault!”

Breath haggard, In-ho rubs your head comfortingly. You didn’t even realize that he has long since stopped crying. He covers your ears, knowing by now that the sound of gunshots horrifies you, and glances at the body of the man he just killed.

You watched him kill one guy and you get this rattled? He sighs quietly.

For you, he would kill a thousand more.

V, PART ONE.

“Hey girl,” a voice booms from behind you, catching you by surprise.

You let go of your hand that’s holding Young-il’s, turning your head to address the stranger.

“Saw you from afar and I can’t believe I didn’t talk to you sooner.” The purple haired man wastes no time getting into your space, running a hand through his hair. “D’ya know who I am? Because I wanna know who you are.”

You stiffen up. Of course you know him. Who didn’t? The number one ambassador of the ‘O’ team, aka the people who wish to continue the games, the outspoken menace, Thanos.

Thanos catches sight of something behind you and wavers before looking back at you. “A-anyway. I’ll see you around. Team’s always open, baby!” He exclaims, but it’s obvious that he’s trying to hide his nervousness.

You look back to see Young-il smiling at you. “Wonder what that’s about.”

The people here freaks you out. You sigh. “I know, right?”

In-ho hums, his finger treading along the sharp edges of the fork.

V, PART TWO.

The bathroom is a mess— team ‘O’ and team ‘X’, warring against each other, fueled by the actions of a junkie who’s high out of his mind.

In the middle of it all, Hwang In-ho calmly makes his way to a purple haired man who is slumped on the ground, yelling at his friend.

“Get him, get that sucker! He tried to kill me, man!”

A dark shadow looms over Thanos, and he looks up in terror, recognizing In-ho immediately. “W-what are you-?”

In-ho eyes him coldly before swinging down.

The cold gleam of a fork is the last thing Thanos sees before it penetrates his neck.

VI.

The fire of revolution burns bright behind all of you. Your hands may tremble, but your rifle is secure in your arms. All those first person shooter games are finally coming in handy as you manage to actually shoot down several guards.

“You okay?!” Young-il questions in panic, “You’re doing a good job! It’s gonna get more dangerous afterwards, but I can’t leave you behind!”

You nod, reassuring him, following him up the stairs with two other men in tow. Right now, you are brother-in-arms, comrades, fighting for your freedom.

Young-il halts, sensing the presence of a guard, before speaking into the comm, “Gi-hun-ssi, we found it.” he holds out an arm in front of you like a shield, “Start attacking and draw their attention. Then we’ll hit them from behind.”

Your knees tremble in fear and anticipation. Somehow, with Young-il on your side, you feel like this ragtag team of freedom fighters can actually succeed.

“Okay, got it!” Gi-hun’s invigorated reply came from the other side.

Young-il pockets the comm, nodding to the two men. They nod back in response and move forward. He quickly moves in front of you, signaling you to stay behind him.

Just when you thought about how reliable he is, two sharp gunshots resonates in the air.

Is it over?

You peek from behind Young-il’s back only to be met by the horrific sight of Player 015 and Player 047 sprawled on the ground, choking on their own blood.

Young-il’s rifle is still pointed at the two of them, his eyes cold.

Who is this person? You scramble to get away from him, alarm bells ringing in your head. Did he miss his shot? Did I see wrong? Is there a guard in front of him?

“Young-il-ssi, what’s going on?” came Gi-hun’s distressed voice from the comm, “Are you shooting?”

You watch in horror as Young-il calmly reloads his rifle before squatting down and glancing your way. “Gi-hun-ssi, I’m sorry.” Like a seasoned actor, the unscathed Young-il puts on a strained voice, “It’s all over. They got us too.”

Gi-hun’s voice is blurred as you fall to your knees, finally coming into terms with the betrayal of the person you’ve come to trust the most.

Young-il momentarily looks away from you to shoot the two men one more time. Cold, unfeeling, his fingers steady like he’s done this countless times before.

This is not the Young-il you know.

When it’s all over, several pink guards march up to him, a coat and a black mask in tow. Young-il (?) lifts a hand up to stop them, turning to finally address you.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, your fingers desperately trying to locate the trigger on your rifle, but the man in front of you is much quicker. He yanks the rifle from your trembling hands, unloading the bullets and kicking the weapon away as you back away to the wall, shivering in fear.

He sighs, taking the coat from one of the guards before kneeling down to your height. “I won’t hurt you. You know that, right?”

Confused, you can only gape at him. “W-who are you..?”

“Hwang In-ho. My real name.” he offers, tenderly wiping a tear from your cheek, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to lie to you. I’ll explain everything, if you’ll just give me a chance..?”

In one swift motion, he wraps his coat around your shoulders. You look at his eyes, as tender and unchanging as ever— then it dawns on you: he has always been this way.

“Mr. Front Man, sir, everything is ready.”

You let In-ho pull you to your feet, his touch as comforting as ever as the two of you pass by countless guards. They make way for the two of you, the hierarchy crystal clear when not one of them dare to step out of line.

You’ve been such a fool. All the signs were there, the reason why Player 001 carries himself with such grace as if he’s untouchable. How the guards say things about ‘not tolerating actions that will disrupt the votes’ and yet kept quiet when it’s Player 001’s turn to speak his mind. The way they would shuffle away from him slightly whenever he walks—

In-ho turns to look at you, his eyes kind, “Do you trust me?”

Yet, you can’t bring yourself to say no.

note: i know i appeared on the dash absolutely losing it over the recruiter/the salesman/ddakji guy (he’ll get his own fic after this don’t worry) but i took one look at this man with his hair down and i fell into a SPIRAL. this is totally a passion project. front man ftw 🙆‍♀️

#maru writes...#squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game x reader #squid game fanfic #squid game frontman #the front man #front man #player 001 #hwang in ho #oh young il #young il #in ho x reader #frontman x reader #the frontman x reader #hwang in ho x reader #player 001 x reader #young il x reader #lee byung hun

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celestiamour · 4 days ago

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it’s so difficult not to babygirlify s1 gi-hun at his old ass age pushing 50, look at him, pookiest babygirl to ever babygirl, my bum wet rat of a malewife, my shayla 😭😭

#💞. the princess is in love #seong gi hun #seong gi hun x reader #squid game #squid game x reader #i want to ruin him #fantasizing about seong gi hun isnt enough i need lee Jung Jae under me

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littlepeach-world · 11 days ago

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The Midnight Misunderstanding

Pairing: Frontman/Hwang In-Ho x Pregnant!Wife!Reader

Summary: You give in to your late-night pregnancy cravings and slip out quietly, leaving your husband, Hwang In-ho, to wake up in a frenzy when he finds you missing.

Warnings: Angst, Fear of losing someone, grief, pregnancy, cravings, gun, slight fluff, soft-Inho.

Late into the night, you stretch quietly in bed, your mind drifting through sleepy fog and growing sharper with an insistent craving. Turning to your side, you see your husband, Hwang In-ho, sleeping peacefully beside you. The chill of the night air sends shivers down your spine, but the thought of satisfying your craving warms you with determination. The clock reads 2:47 AM.

Knowing how hard In-ho has been working and how much rest he needs, you decide to slip out discreetly, believing you can make it back before he even notices. You pull on a warm coat, gather your essentials, and tiptoe out the door, careful to close it softly behind you.

Hours seem to pass in what feels like minutes. In-ho stirs awake, reaching out to find your side of the bed cold and empty. He blinks groggily, thinking you might be in another room. "Y/N?" he calls softly, expecting a quick reply or the distant hum of your voice.

When no response comes, he rises slowly, the initial calm giving way to a creeping unease. He checks the adjoining bathroom, then the kitchen, and each empty room sends another pang of worry coursing through him. The house feels eerily quiet, and with each step, the calm facade he tried to maintain begins to crack.

As he makes his way through the silent hallways and finds no sign of you anywhere, panic floods through him instantly. Memories of losing his first wife surge into his mind, and the dread of facing the same heart-wrenching loss with you engulfs him like a tidal wave.

Terror grips his chest as he moves more frantically now. "Yeobo?" he calls out again, his voice slicing through the silence like a knife, but only the echo of his own voice answers him back. His heart races uncontrollably as he grabs his phone, his hands shaking with a mix of fear and urgency.

"I can't find my wife," he says, his voice quivering as he speaks to his guards. "Search the building immediately," he commands, his tone rigid and leaving no room for delay. The icy fingers of fear grip his heart, the stakes now higher than ever with the thought of losing you and the baby—his entire world teetering on the brink of uncertainty.

As he listens to the hurried replies of his guards springing into action, he pulls open the drawer beside his bed and grabs his gun, the cold weight of the metal feeling reassuring in his hand. The transformation is swift—his usual calm demeanor gives way to the steely resolve of the Front Man.

He methodically sweeps through the apartment, each shadow and creak heightening his anxiety. Has something sinister befallen you? Could Gi-hun, that determined Player 456, have somehow found you? The uncertainty gnaws at him, each tick of the clock echoing louder in the eerily quiet apartment. His thoughts race wildly, the sense of impending dread building with each passing second.

Just as his mind threatens to overwhelm him, the soft click of the door breaks the silence. He pivots sharply, raising his gun, only to freeze as you step back inside with a small stack of snacks and an apologetic smile. The weight of the moment crashes over him, the relief almost too much to bear.

"In-ho," you start, but the torrent of emotions inside him is already surging to the surface. He lowers the gun, his hands trembling.

"Where were you?" His voice is a mix of anger, relief, and lingering fear. He steps forward, his eyes scanning you from head to toe, ensuring you're really there and unharmed.

"I... I couldn’t sleep," you say softly, holding up the snacks as a peace offering. "I thought some comfort food might help. I’m sorry if I worried you."

He releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, the tension in his shoulders slowly fading. He pulls you into a fierce embrace, holding you as if you might disappear if he let go. The feel of you, warm and real in his arms, does more to calm his racing heart than anything else.

"I thought..." his voice breaks, unable to finish the sentence. The memories of his first loss are still too raw, the pain too fresh.

You pull back slightly and cup his face in your hands, your eyes filled with understanding and love. "I'm here. I’m not going anywhere," you reassure him, gently stroking his cheek.

He leans into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts. When he opens them, there's a new resolve mirrored in their depths. "Next time, wake me," he pleads softly. "I can't... I won't lose you and the baby. You both mean everything to me."

You nod, your heart aching for the pain he’s been through. "I promise," you whisper, and he takes a deep breath, slowly finding his composure again.

With his arm protectively around you, he leads you back to the bedroom. The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts a warm, reassuring light on your path.

With measured steps, he walks over to the dresser and slides the gun back into the drawer, locking it firmly to ensure it’s secure. The sight of him putting the weapon away brings a greater sense of calm to both of you.

As you reach the bed, he gently guides you to sit on the edge before kneeling in front of you.

His eyes soften as he places his hands on your growing belly, the life inside a beacon of hope amidst his fears. He leans in, tenderly kissing your pregnant belly, a silent vow of protection and love to both you and the unborn child.

"We’re in this together," he murmurs, his lips lingering on your skin. You smile down at him, your hand resting on his head.

Under the covers, he keeps you close, one arm wrapped protectively around you, his hand resting gently on your stomach. The snacks are forgotten on the bedside table as sleep finally takes over, but this time, it’s a peaceful sleep, secure in the knowledge that you’re safe and by his side.

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murderofravens · 10 days ago

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BABY, I'M RIGHT HERE

pairing: hwang inho/young-il/frontman x fem reader

warnings: large age gap (20 vs late 40s) angst. slow burn. slight infantilization. no use of y/n. codependency. obsession from both sides. unhealthy dynamics. plot with porn. fingering. oral fixation. brat tamer inho. sub!reader. reader is very touch starved. a little yandere vibes. emotional manipulation. i made him very fatherly but toxic oops.

summary: he promised that you will make it out alive. he will make sure of it, no matter what it takes.

word count: 8k more or less

SEQUEL TO: DUSK TILL DAWN

FINAL PART: FLY ME TO THE MOON

SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

please ignore mistakes.

you can't remember half of it. everything happened so quickly— your little moment of bliss shattered by 388's quick warning. the lights went out. one moment you were in young-il's arms, the next he was dragging you down towards 456, who was hiding under another bed. he shifted to make room for you and you crawled to his side. young-il followed.

"stay quiet," 456 whispered, looking around. not much was visible in the dark, but soon enough, the loud noise of bottles shattering and people screaming began echoing through the hall.

"they're killing each other—" you whisper, eyes wide. you shift slightly, raising your head. you try to sit up. "they're killing our side of the people—"

young-il halted your movements with a hand on your arm, "don't move." he hissed. "we can't leave till the guards come in."

"what?" you snap, voice hushed, "if they kill all our people, what's gonna happen in the next vote? we'll lose!"

"there won't be a next vote," 456 added, flinching slightly at another sharp cry. he looked determined. "we're stopping this today."

you glanced at him, heartbroken. you looked out again, heartbeat picking up as you saw player 380 run away from nam-gyu. he was on her tail, visibly trying to kill her. a bottle lay there by the bed, and before young-il could stop you, you slid it out. nam-gyu tripped on it and fell on his face. luckily, it was too dark and he was too worked up to check who it was. you just hoped it gave player 380 enough time to hide.

young-il restrained you then, pushing you down slightly so you were fully sandwiched between him and 456, "don't compromise our position!"

"how much longer?" you whispered, ignoring him. you winced as more sounds of bones cracking and people choking on their own blood took over the entire room. neither of them answered, but even 456 jumped a little as the body of one of the girls on your side fell to the floor.

your eyes widened as the girl's eyes met yours, and then she sputtered out blood before laying there, lifeless.

"don't look." young-il voiced out, craning his neck down to meet your gaze. he clenched his jaw, settling you with a cold glare, "look at me."

"you should've told me this was the plan," you hissed through gritted teeth, squinting as the flashing of lights overwhelmed your senses, "would you be okay if that was m—mphh!"

he put a finger to your lips, shaking slightly as he gave you another warning glare. 456 watched with bated breath, as if counting all the people dying.

the lights go off again, and the room remains dark. only the noises of people fighting can be heard.

"time to move," 456 tells young-il, who nods and begins shifting out of the bed. you follow along, but he pushes you back in, "don't get out until i tell you."

"what?" you frown, confused. your words are quick, "you expect me to hide here while you go out there to do god knows what—

as you speak, young-il grits his teeth, frustrated. he's desperate as he grabs your shoulders. he glances back, makes sure no one sees before silencing you with a kiss. it leaves you breathless. he cups your face and looks into your eyes intensely, "don't get out until i tell you to." his voice is urgent, "close your eyes, put your hands to your ears. trust me, and listen to me for once."

you blink rapidly before nodding, still a little out of it. you don't think you'll ever get used to how good kissing him feels. you wish you could feel it again and again, under better circumstances.

456 hisses for young-il, and he pats your head before rushing away as soon as the doors open. the guards come in, rapidly firing their machine guns towards the ceiling, stopping the fight. you watch carefully, heart dropping to your stomach as young-il and 456 lay there, as if dead, along with 390 and 388. you almost rush out to check on them, but young-il's previous words hold you back. you watch as the guards start putting those devices to the dead bodies' ears, and when they reach your team members, 456 suddenly attacks. the rest of the team similarly manages to take their guns away, and kill the remaining guards. you almost jump out of your skin as a firing match starts— and young-il and player 120 skillfully kill most of them. you look on with bated breath, flinching as the guards fall to the floors. you begin to get out from under the bed, panting. one of the guards was still hiding, and he immediately aimed the gun at you. before you could move, young-il shoots him dead.

you look around the room, swallowing the lump in your throat at the sight of all the dead bodies. so many people with hopes and dreams. people with families, laying there, lifeless. cautiously, you looked around with purpose, before your eyes fell on player 380's body.

she couldn't hide.

you look away, sweat rolling down the side of your head. you clench your jaw and glare at the other team, eyes narrowing with resentment as you catch sight of nam-gyu. swallowing hard, you walk past the bodies, careful not to step on them. your eyes fell on your team members gathering the guards' weapons.

so this was the plan. you frown, rushing forward to help them. the guns are heavy, but you manage to place many of them along with some ammo on the bedsheet laying there.

456 announces the plan— something about capturing the ones who captured them all, and going to their headquarters to make them pay. you shift your gaze to young-il, who stares ahead blankly, as if thinking hard. you wonder if he's scared.

"anyone who knows how to use guns and wishes to join us—" 456 calls out, "please step forward!"

the players are silent, frozen. cowards, you think to yourself. you step forward immediately, and young-il's face hardens so dramatically, it almost makes you laugh. he takes a step towards you, "absolutely not!" he snaps, "stay right there."

"you need all the help you can get!" you argue back sharply. you point an accusatory finger at player 100 and his team. "don't you see? even these so called tough guys aren't willing to go with you! don't put your trust in these people, i can help more than they can! my aim's great!"

while you talk, young-il pinches the bridge of his nose, calls your name again gruffly. a warning.

"don't drag us into this!" player 100 interrupts angrily, his lip curling with disgust. "this is madness! you don't stand a chance against them!"

you quite literally snarl as you rush towards him, jabbing a finger to his chest. it makes him stumble backwards, "you had no issue with risking our lives and your own for money, but standing up to those who caught you is where you draw the line?" you glower at him, scoff at the rest of his team. to emphasize your point, you gather saliva in your mouth, spit it by his shoe. "fucking pussy !"

young-il quite literally snatches you away by the collar of your jacket before the other team can do anything. it's a little baffling how swiftly he moves, even while carrying such a big gun. he takes you to your side of the bunker, shoves you onto the bed, "don't make me tie you up." he grunts threateningly, "you are not going and that's final. you're built like a bird, you won't stand a chance against armed guards. i refuse to watch you get killed."

456 calls out for you, voice soft but urgent, "it's best if you stay here. we won't be able to focus if he's— if we're worried about you."

you grit your teeth as you scowl at young-il with glassy eyes. they're tears of anger. you want to scream at him. you want to pull him towards you and never let him go. you look at your team, watch with longing as player 120 guides them on how to use their guns. she's brave and badass, it makes you want to be like her.

"and you're okay with getting killed?" you drift your attention back to young-il, voice cracking. "what am i supposed to do if something happens to you?"

young-il sighs, gaze softening as he kneels before you . your lips wobble as you glare daggers at him, eyes narrowed. he shakes his head, "i'll come back to you alive."

you scoff bitterly. "how can you be so sure?"

"i just am."

"promise me." you hold your pinky up, clenching your jaw as you stare at him intensely, "promise me you won't die. promise me you'll come back for me."

he looks at your pinky, and then at you. you've always found him harder to read than other people. but you see reluctance in his eyes. he sighs, before raising his own pinky, joining it with yours. the contrast between your hands would've been comical if you were not in this shithole. he gives you a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

"i promise."

you can hear player 100 yelling at his team, clearly talking shit about you. you look over young-il's shoulder, and he glances at the old man too before turning to you knowingly.

"don't get in any trouble while i'm gone." he whispers softly. he reaches behind his back. "and just in case— i want you to have this."

it's a pistol. he probably took it from one of the dead guards. your eyes widen and you look at young-il. he teaches you how to unload it, and reload it, and how to work the safety, before placing it in your palm. your gaze never leaves his face. questioning.

"you've made enemies here," he explains, as if it's obvious, "if any of the men there try anything—"

"you want me to kill them?" you quirk an eyebrow.

his mouth curls into a smirk, "i want you to be safe."

he gets up, and as player 100 looks at you again, you jokingly aim the gun towards him. he jumps back in fear, stumbling into the younger men at his side. you chuckle, and young-il lowers your hand. "behave."

it makes your heart jump.

"why does that kid get a gun and we don't?!" one of the younger men yells. young-il ignores him.

you grin at him almost childishly. he shakes his head before addressing 149— the old lady who got here with her son.

"don't let her leave," he tells her, giving you a stern, sidelong glance. you roll your eyes.

before he can leave, you grab his hand and look at him intensely. you can only hope your eyes can convey what you can't verbally, not in front of people. for his sake.

"be careful." you decide to say, voice cracking. you memorize every feature of his face, with only one thought in your mind.

you're not allowed to leave me.

he nods, looking away before walking to his team. you yell at them too, telling them to be careful and watch as they carefully exit. you look on with longing as you watch them go, before glancing down at the gun in your hand, and then at the door again. soon enough, you can hear the faint sounds of guns firing. it makes you jump, but player 149 puts a hand on your shoulder, comfortingly guiding you to sit beside her.

you almost contemplate rushing out, what would these people even do? stop you? you have a gun in your hand, although you wouldn't want to pull it on 149. she's a good lady. people are already scared. you don't want to make it worse.

so you stay, and hope that young-il keeps his promise. pinky promises are sacred. you either keep them, or you die.

you decide that if he dies, you'll just bring him back to life somehow and kill him again.

you don't remember how long you wait. multiple times, you stand up and pace around the room. agitated, scared. every gunshot has you looking at the door again and again, hoping that somehow young-il will decide to burst through it. 149 tells you to be calm, tries to distract you with your life outside the games. it doesn't work.

thankfully, the pistol in your hand had scared the other team enough to not try anything with you. they talk within themselves, trying to busy themselves with conversations and anxiously bouncing their legs as they look at the ceiling. you wonder how they can be so calm after killing your team.

"you people are cowards." you say to no one in particular. the message hits the target though, because the ones who weren't willing to go and help shift uncomfortably.

"you'd rather die losing to a stupid game instead of a noble death trying to help people," you chide, chuckling bitterly. 149 tries to stop you from talking, but you shrug her words off with a shake of your head. you stand up and face the other team again. "it's shameful. you had no problem killing others who were in the same position as you, but your oppressors is where you decide to stop?" you gesture towards the dead bodies. the sight of blood doesn't make you squeamish anymore. it just makes you sad.

"these people died because you wanted to keep playing." you hiss, "you killed them."

the people on the other side don't respond, instead lowering their gaze to the floor. you look at nam-gyu sitting on the side, fiddling with something. you want to kill him. you want to kill everyone who stopped you from going home, who became the reason more innocent people died. your morals are a bit fucked, you think, but you're okay with it. people who do bad things deserve to die. you raise the gun, aim it at player 100. he flinches, and sits straight up, raising his hands. his team members shuffle away from him, and it makes you snicker. when he's on death's door, they abandon him. "have you gone crazy!?"

"game or no game, you were meant to die." you clench your jaw, your mouth twitching. "shall i kill you, old man?"

you don't get to pull the trigger. you're interrupted by player 388 rushing inside, panicked and covered in blood. your eyes widen, and you go straight to him, grabbing his shoulders. he looks shaken up, "what happened? where's 001? is he okay? did you find—"

"gather all the remaining ammo," he says shakily, fumbling over his words, "we ran out. i need to take some back."

you nod, and 149's son comes to help you check the dead guards' gear and gather the remaining ammunition. 388 wraps it up in a jacket, and rushes to the door, before suddenly stopping. you pause, looking at him, sweat breaking out across your skin. there's a bad feeling in your stomach. "what's wrong? aren't you going?"

he doesn't respond. you can't see his face because his back is turned to you. a moment passes and you step forward cautiously. he drops the walkie talkie, and your eyes fall to the floor where it lands— where you can hear the voice of player 120 asking where he is. they have no ammo.

"i can't do it." 388 whispers, shaking. he rushes back to his bed, drops the little makeshift bag full of ammo and cowers into himself. your eyes widen. you look at the walkie talkie, and back to him. if they don't get ammo soon, they're going to die. you rush to the bed, shoot 388 a frown— you consider comforting him, but you have another priority now. you grab the bundle and turn to leave.

149 runs after you along with a few others, pulling you by the sleeve of your jacket. she's trembling with worry. "your father told me not to let you leave—"

amidst the chaos, you let out a chuckle.

"he's not my father," you reply, yanking your jacket from her grip and composing yourself. the sentence would've had you cackling in a better situation. you can't wait to tell young-il about it. you can understand why she'd think so, even though you and young-il look literally nothing alike. the opposite, really. he's like a father in spirit.

your face hardens and you address the crowd. "they need help. is anyone gonna come with me?”

nobody moves. you scoff bitterly. predictable.

149 looks at you helplessly, pushes her son to grab you. when he advances towards you, you pull out the gun and hold it to his head, eyes crazed as you pull the safety. you warn him dangerously, "step back."

he raises his hands and steps back, lowering his gaze. holding the bundle to your chest, you walk backwards, aiming the gun to both sides of the room and ensuring no one grabs you. you look at 149, meet her crushed gaze and mouth an 'im sorry' to her before running out as fast as you can.

you're quite sure you got lost. you're running as fast as you can, trying to follow the sounds of the gunshots, and looking for any bullet holes or signs of struggle. you look up and see broken cameras, and recall 120 shooting them back in the hall. you follow them until one of the red guards encounters you, immediately raising his gun. he's slow, infuriatingly so— but it doesn't matter because in your panicked haze, you shoot him in the stomach, then rush forward and kick his gun away before running off.

you can see your team. you let out a breath of relief, and as soon as 120 meets your gaze, she gasps. you shake your head and quickly slide over to her, giving her the rest of the ammunition. she quickly reloads, and you toss the rest to the other players, before looking around frantically, flinching at the gunshots. "where's 001 and 456?" you ask her.

"control room!" she points towards the end of the hallway, and you nod before advancing. she tries to protest but you're quicker, and she's preoccupied with firing. luckily, the guards never seem to fire at you.

there are two sides. you hesitate, before finally taking the left one where you just heard two gunshots. you quickly rush forward, pistol held protectively. the whole area looks like some sort of purple maze, and you're wary as you walk, scared that a guard might jump out and shoot you.

finally, you see your young-il's back. he's crouching on the floor, looking at a dying player. the relief you feel is baffling. your eyes widen, and you call out his name. "young-il sir!"

he tenses, turning back so fast that you worry he'd get a whiplash. visibly stressed, he rushes towards you, shaking his head, "no— no, no, no, no, no, what are you doing here!”

you run towards him, almost tripping on the stairs. he grabs your shoulders, shakes you aggressively, "i told you not to fucking leave!"

you almost flinch at his tone. it's strange to see him swear. you answer him shakily, panting, "they— they ran out of ammo, i couldn't leave you!"

he looks upset and shaken up, clenching his jaw as he pinches the bridge of his nose, mumbling incoherently to himself. you turn towards the dying player, your expression pained. he tries to point at something, but you don't understand what. you kneel towards him, and his hand falls down. his croaking stops.

suddenly, you hear the footsteps of guards heading towards you. before you can move, you're surrounded. you hold onto your gun, shaking as you quickly stand up. you swallow hard, unblinking as they aim their guns at you.

that’s when you notice it.

they're aiming at only you, and not young-il. it makes you feel strange.

you look at him, and he's taking sharp breaths, as if trying to compose himself. or trying not to scream with rage. it's odd, how relaxed he looks. tense in the face, but relaxed in the way that he didn't take an offensive stance, or feel surprised at the sight of the guards. you frown in confusion, before he flicks his hand. the guards lower their guns.

you blink a few times, swallowing the lump in your throat, dread settling in your stomach. you look at the guards, then at young-il, who refuses to meet your gaze. you repeat the action.

guards. young-il. guards. young-il. then the players on the floor. then back at young-il's face. and it takes you a moment, but the realization sets in.

the guard letting you go to the restroom when young-il was by your side, him conveniently appearing to save you when you went exploring, him walking with that air of authority. how the guards never seemed to look at him too long. how easily he killed the man during mingle without a second thought. how one look from him had the guard lowering his gun during voting. how he was sure he wouldn't die. things that you never should've looked over.

you step back, your breathing getting ragged as you slowly raise your gun towards young-il. the guards point their guns at you again, ready to shoot. he stops them by raising his hand in warning. he clenches his jaw, his eyes unreadable and guarded.

"who are you." you demand tightly. your voice shakes pathetically, it makes you wince. you've never been this scared of anything in your life. not even the games.

"it doesn't have to be this way." he says quietly. his voice seems different, deeper. gravely. he holds his hand out to you in what he hopes is a comforting fashion. "put the gun down."

you step back, putting your finger on the trigger, just the way he taught you. ‘i want you to be safe,’ he'd said.

"i asked you a fucking question!" you yell, voice cracking. your gun feels slippery in your hands. it almost falls. you fumble trying to keep a tight grip on it. all this time, the prospect of death felt a little comforting with the idea that you'd have young-il by your side if it happened. but now, it just terrifies you. it looks bleak.

you sniffle, lips wobbling as fresh tears roll down your cheeks. you were always fucking unlucky. the first time you like a man this much, he turns out to be the bad guy. you feel utterly pathetic and terrified.

his eyes dart all over your panicked face before he gestures towards one of the guards, who raises his gun. there's a flash of guilt in his eyes that you can't miss. it makes your blood freeze. you refuse to die alone.

you straighten your aim towards young-il and pull the trigger. two gunshots ring out, and you don't get the time to react before something stings your chest, and you fall to the ground.

your vision goes black.

there are no dreams, no last memories. no flashes of your life. there's this heaviness in your chest, like someone is suffocating you.

you wake up with a startled gasp, sitting up immediately. your vision looks blurry, but with a few blinks you can make out a room. a lavish room with a closed window on the side. you frown in confusion, before putting your hand to your chest. there's no bleeding, no pain except the one in your muscles.

you swallow hard, your throat feeling dry. for a moment you wonder if it was all a dream, but when you try to move, you realize your right hand is chained to the side of the bed— with those strong black straps with locks that they used in the second game. you pull at it a few times, breathing getting heavy as you look down on yourself. your bloodied green jersey has been replaced by a comfortable pair of pink pyjamas that cover your arms and legs. you raise your hand to your head, and there's a small bandage on the right side of your face that you remember previously scratching in the bathroom.

you struggle a little, try to look for a way to unlock the straps, but it's like the room is purposely empty. absolutely no sharp or heavy objects to help you escape. like a prison cell.

you think of young-il. is he dead? you remember pulling the trigger. you knew the risk that came with aiming the gun at him when you were surrounded by guards— you just had this thought that if you were going to die, you would drag him with you. he won't get to live after what he'd done.

you don't get to brood about your thoughts for long, because the door opens and he steps inside— a man dressed in black, with a creepy mask. it makes you feel uneasy. you touch your chest again, look at him with a questioning gaze.

“it was just a tranquilizer.” he answers your silent question, voice distorted through the mask.

“is this really necessary?” you ask dryly, rattling the chain on your right hand.

“do you feel comfortable?” the man asks, gesturing towards your clothes.

you grit your teeth, “cut the bullshit. who are you?”

the man sighs, looking down, as if disappointed. he looks at you again before taking off the mask, and you feel like throwing up.

his hair looks different — slicked back with gel. his eyes look tired, even more so than back at the games. he looks more intimidating this way. you feel a strong urge to leap across the bed and ruffle his hair so he can look familiar again.

you have so much to say.

why did you do this? who the fuck are you? how are you still here, when i so clearly remember shooting you?

“you're alive,” you instead remark dryly. young-il gives you a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

“your aim needs more practice,” he says quietly, patting his right shoulder. “barely grazed me.”

the idea of having hurt him almost makes your chest ache, but you remind yourself of who he is.

you sniffle, lips wobbling as you look at him. your dear young-il. who comforted you, protected you, held you and kissed you so dearly. he really made a fucking fool out of you.

“and what's all that for?” you tilt your head towards his hand. trying to put on a mask, just like him. a brave face.

he places the mask on the table, walks over to sit on the side of the bed. you flinch, moving away from him slightly.

he notices, and it hurts more than getting shot. he doesn't dare reveal that on his face.

“is your name even young-il?” you ask quietly, voice strained.

he shakes his head. you snort bitterly.

“i'm guessing you're the big boss then.” you remark flatly, looking around the room. forcing yourself to appear nonchalant. he wants to tell you to drop the act, because he can still hear your voice faltering.

he nods, “something like that. i design the games.”

you bite down on your lower lip to stop it from wobbling. nobody knows the strength it takes trying not to cry. you lower your gaze to your lap.

your next question is pathetic. you would expect yourself to scream and threaten him to let you go, but there's only one thing on your mind.

“was i a game to you too?” you ask quietly. you don't want to know the answer. perhaps you would've preferred it if he killed you.

he sighs, averting his gaze. he utters your name softly, and you feel like a weak woman because you still like the way he says it.

your voice almost waivers when you ask, “are you going to hurt me?”

he looks at you, blinks a few times before answering honestly. “don't make me.”

you hold back the urge to sob. your left hand comes up to clap over your mouth, and he looks away as you cower in on yourself. how can he say that, after covering your eyes and pulling you into him to ensure you didn't get scared by people getting killed? you wish there was atleast a lamp on the side table, maybe you could've cracked his skull to free yourself from this fear. and to take revenge for playing with your heart.

“you ruined everything.” he admits, voice growing tight. solemn. he clenches his jaw, mouth twitching with barely disguised anger. “i went into the games because of gi-hun, to make sure he doesn't stop the game. and then ended up paying more attention to you than him.”

you release a shaky breath, pulling your knees to your chest. your mouth twists with emotion. gi-hun. player 456. your eyes widen, heart leaping out of your throat.

“is he okay?” you ask, voice cracking with concern, “is he alive?”

his head snaps up— gaze hardening almost dramatically. his eye twitches, and he gives you a tight smile. it doesn't suit him because it's not the one you're familiar with. “are you worried about him?”

you glare at him, eyes narrowing.

“he’ll be fine.” he adds nonchalantly. his voice sounds different— cold in a way that makes goosebumps rise on your skin. “would you rather be with him than me?”

you snort bitterly, looking away with a roll of your eyes. he can't be fucking serious. he has the audacity to be jealous after what he's done to you. he is so unbelievably ridiculous.

“put me back in the game.” you hiss through gritted teeth.

“i can't do that.” he shakes his head, “you will die in there. you won't survive the next games. i made sure they get increasingly difficult—”

“i'll win!” you argue, “i’ll beat them all and win, stop treating me like a fucking child—”

“you are a fucking child compared to me!” he bellows, making you flinch. your gaze never falters as you grit your teeth, looking at him with all the rage you can muster. he grabs your jaw, squishing your cheeks so hard that your lips pucker. he would've kissed you if he wasn't so fucking angry. his voice is harsh as he continues, shaking your head. “you! are quite literally a baby compared to me and the others in there. they're ruthless animals who won't hesitate to rip you apart to win. you're going to die in there and i wouldn't be there to save you!”

his words have your stomach churning, because he's right. but that doesn't matter to you.

“since when do you care?!” you snap challengingly. your words come out muffled.

he glares back at you, his nostrils flaring with anger, “i wish i didn't care.” he hisses, voice low. hoarse. he leans towards you. “oh how desperately i wish i didn't care about you.”

your heart begins to race as you stare at him, dumbfounded, unable to speak. he looks into your eyes, then glances down at your lips, before making eye contact again. he lets go of your face and straightens up, composing himself.

“you almost ruined my entire plan.” his voice is collected, almost guarded. “you consume my every waking thought ever since i felt your head against my chest. do you know how many times i had to warn my guards not to shoot you? especially with how many times you kept crossing the line?”

your breath hitches, and you open your mouth to argue. he doesn't give you a moment to speak.

“i'm not sending you back in the games where you can die.” he continues darkly. he brings his hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. the action is gentle— a stark contrast against what he previously did. the situation you're in, the kind of man he is. you blink at him, eyes teary. his gaze softens just slightly. “you made me promise not to abandon you. I don't plan to.”

“you're a sick man,” you whisper. you can't believe he's holding that against you— your promises from when he was deceiving you, “you designed those fucking games. you can stop them anytime you wanted. i got stuck here because of you, you killed all those innocent people. you're a sadistic, psychotic asshole—”

he shoots you a warning glare, pressing his hand against your mouth. “don’t test me, brat. ”

you sniffle, letting out a pained whimper. you push his hand off your mouth, “let me go.”

he looks unamused, “i can't do that.”

“were you not planning to leave me?” you try to reason with him, desperate. “when you left with the rest of the team? you wouldn't have come back after that—”

“i would've found a way to get you home.” he admits quietly. “i had a plan. but then you came running after me like the brat you are. you never listen.”

“then let me go now!” you protest heatedly. his words have your heart hurting. if that's true, then you're the one who sealed your fate. another impulsive decision ruined your life. “i told you about me. i told you about my mom! i miss her. she and my sister—" you almost choke on a sob as you croak the words out, the mere thought of them driving you to insanity, "they need me."

“i've settled your father's debt,” he mentions after a moment of silence, looking deeply into your eyes. he hopes it gives you some comfort, stops you from wanting to leave him. “you don't have to go back. they'll live a life of ease.”

your blood runs cold. that means he knows where they are.

“do you expect me to fucking thank you?” you can't hold back the tears rolling down your cheeks, shaking your head, “i wanna go home.” you sniffle, “you ruined our lives. you played with my feelings and my life. people are dead because of you. how can you say you'd have let me go home one moment, and then refuse it the next?”

"don't hurt them," you speak again, leaning forward almost pleadingly. perhaps you shouldn't piss him off. you're not the kind to beg for your life. but your family? now that's another thing. "please keep them out of this. dont hurt them, please."

"i won't," he says airily, his dark eyes deeply boring into yours, "not if you don't give me a reason to. just be good."

you sniffle, violently trembling. be good. you'll be good. for your family's sake.

his hands cup your face and you flinch. his thumbs brush the tears away. you avert your gaze. you can't meet his eyes— you resent him.

you resent yourself because his touch still makes you feel an odd sense of comfort.

"this is torture," you choke out, "why are you doing this to me?"

he says your name softly, guides your face up to look at him, “i’m selfish.” he admits. “the moments i spent with you.. was the happiest i've been in a… long, long time. i'm not ready to let go of that. ever. ”

he has lost everything. his wife, his baby. his brother. his humanity. only now he has control over his life, enough resources. he can change fate with a flick of his finger. he's not going to lose you, not after you've made him feel human again, for the first time in years. you've ripped open his ribcage and climbed inside, sealed it shut with your touch. he hasn't been needed by anyone like this— it gives him a sense of purpose. he doesn't trust himself to not lose his mind if you're ever out of his sight. he'll make sure you're by his side, where he can hold you and comfort you. whatever it takes.

you shake your head, lips wobbling. you try to pull away, your free hand coming up to hold onto his, to pry it off your face. he doesn't let up, instead climbing towards you and invading your personal space as he presses your foreheads together.

“i don't know about you kids, but in my time, pinky promises were a big deal,” he says lowly, the side of his mouth quirking up. he's trying to joke, he wants to see you smile again. the way you did when you looked at him— with stars in your eyes. like he's your hero. nothing else has ever made him feel more alive. “i’m afraid i can't let you go.”

you let out a shudder, squeezing your eyes shut as he pushes you till your back collides with the bed. you shake your head, voice tired. “just kill me.”

his face drops, and he looks at you coldly, “you think i'd have you here like this if i planned to kill you?”

you don't respond to that, your chest heaving. everything hurts. your head is pounding, and you feel faint.

his thumb brushes across your cheekbone. he looks at you tenderly, analyzing every feature of your face.

“you know, i really expected you to struggle harder against me.” he observes. the words make you feel embarrassed. your skin heats up with shame, and you clear your throat, looking anywhere but him.

he might be right, you think. you've struggled a little, yes, but he can tell you have the ability to be so much more insufferable. but you're not, not yet. it's fucked up. because even after everything, for some reason you can't seem to brush him off you. you can't seem to let go of the comfort and hope he provided you in one of the most terrifying moments of your life.

you convince yourself it's because your family's life is on the line. not because of your personal feelings.

you don't answer him. you don't have to either, because judging by the small smirk creeping on his face, he knows.

“i'll take care of you,” his face softens. he's trying to convince you. there's a desperate edge to his voice. you look so utterly beautiful to him— your complexion glowing even more because of the pink pyjamas he got for you. in that moment he makes a mental note of what color clothes he'd shower you in the most. “those people down there that you're so desperate to save? they would've thrown you under the bus to win. they don't care about you. i'll make sure you're safe. the life you were living before was worthless. let me look after you.”

“i hate you,” you whisper, voice cracking. another tear rolls down your cheek, and he wipes it away. you don't mean it. he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“i know.”

you don't get to speak again, because he tilts your head up and crashes his mouth onto yours in a bruising, punishing kiss. it makes you wince, and you choke on a soft sob. against your better judgement, you kiss him back.

the moment your mouth parts under his, he takes the chance to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding in. he moans into your mouth, holding your face as he climbs over you completely. you contemplate biting his tongue off, but you don't. as if reading your mind, his hand comes down to gently squeeze your throat— just enough to make you feel a little lightheaded. you gasp softly, eyes blinking dazedly at him. he pulls his mouth away, then places a soft peck upon your lips. then another. and another. you take greedy breaths as you squirm under him. his hand leaves your throat and slips under your top and you jolt at the feeling of his warm hands against your tummy. his mouth trails down, leaving soft kisses across the smooth skin of your neck.

“you’re sick.” you gasp shakily, throwing your head back, giving him more room to place his wet kisses upon you.

“you're the one letting a man like me touch you,” he whispers hoarsely against your neck, voice slightly teasing. “maybe you're just as sick as i am.”

his words make you shiver. you consider them, and you force yourself to think of all the people back there in the hall, ready to march to their deaths tomorrow. your eyes open and you snap out of your trance.

you use your free hand to push slightly at his chest, gaze pleading, “don't kill them,” you whisper. “let them go. atleast our team. they're good people—”

“are you really doing this?” the switch in his voice has you quivering slightly. his hand comes up, grabs your hair. it stings just slightly. a warning. "do you think they would've been this desperate to save you?"

you let out a noise of protest, looking at him helplessly. trying to touch a string of empathy within him. he has none, not anymore.

“they knew what they were getting themselves into. there's no favoritism. you either win, or die.”

your ears ring, heart pounding against your chest. “then what am i?”

he smirks, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip.

“you're my little girl.” he noses the side of your neck. goosebumps rise on your skin, “don't bring that up again.”

you grit your teeth, feeling even more remorseful. is there no way to change his mind? even being responsive to his affection doesn't help.

but you're not being docile to change his mind.

you realize you're pliant because you like being under him.

your logical side forces you to speak. your guilty conscience doesn't allow you to get too comfortable under a killer. "this feels wrong."

he stops, clenches his jaw with restrained anger. he squeezes his eyes shut, mentally counts from 1-10 to avoid doing anything he might regret later.

"let me make you an offer," he pulls back, cocking his head to the side. his eyes are unreadable, voice flat, "i'll let them go on one condition."

your eyes widen with hope, and you nod enthusiastically, eager for him to speak.

"with every player i leave alive—" a small smirk appears on his face, despite his best efforts to hide it. "i'll kill someone you love."

the way terror seized you was suffocating. your throat immediately felt dry, eyes widening with shock. you stared at him, motionless, images of your family, your friends, flashing through your head. his hand gently splayed across your stomach, pressing down a little.

"a life for a life." he announced again, giving you a tight lipped smile, "how does that sound?"

"no." you warned, clasping his wrist desperately with your free hand, breathing rapidly. "no— no. please don't. i'll— i'll stay with you. i'll do anything you say, just—" you held back a sob, "please don't hurt them."

in life threatening situations— people only look out for two types of people. themselves, and the ones dearest to them.

he smiled fully then, amused. predictable, he thinks, before leaning back down, "then conversation's over."

"you made the right choice," he whispered. you didn't bother struggling, squeezing your eyes shut. his hand pulls down your top just enough. his mouth quite literally waters as he bites down on your exposed skin, leaving cherry red bruises across your collarbones.

you have no choice, you tell yourself. it's okay to get comfortable now. you couldn't have done anything.

you mewl, and he slips two of his fingers in your mouth, watching intently with a hungry gaze as you suck on them enthusiastically— just like back in the hall. your eyes flutter, and you mumble incoherently as his fingers gently thrust in and out of your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. it’s messy and sloppy, and the sight of your saliva slipping down your chin makes him moan softly, “my pretty baby.”

you whimper as his hand slides down to your bottoms. you wait with bated breath as you look at him with hazy eyes. his hand slips down into your panties, and a desperate moan escapes your bruised lips.

“i just want to ruin you,” he chuckles breathlessly, teasing your entrance. he hovers over you, looks at you like a starving man as he pinches your clit. you yelp slightly. he taunts you, gaze full of faux innocence as he raises his eyebrows. “does it hurt, huh, sweetheart? do you want daddy to make you feel good?”

“oh fuck—” the moment that word comes out of his mouth, in his soft, breathy voice— you moan. you're pathetic. it's whiney and high pitched and so utterly desperate, it makes him proud to get a reaction like that out of you. and suddenly he understands a little more why you got so attached to him. he pecks your lips again, and smirks against your mouth. he teases your entrance with a single finger.

you whine, “please.”

“what did you say, hm?” he pretends not to hear you, pushing two fingers in. you've never been brave enough to use two even while masturbating— and his are long and thick. the stretch makes you wince. “come on, baby, tell your old man what you said.”

you try to capture his lips with yours again in hopes that he would stop teasing you. he chuckles breathlessly, then lets out a soft moan at the way your walls clench around him.

“i’m a sadistic, psychotic asshole, right?” he throws your words back at you, and you wince. you squeeze your eyes shut, bite down on your lips to hold back a needy whine. his fingers pull back and then thrust again, curling slightly. his thumb goes to your clit, rubbing it. you take a sharp breath, squirming on the bed as you moan again. he doesn't let up, “is that not what you called me? and now you want me to make you feel good?”

his voice grows serious again, face hardening. his motions stop. “apologize.”

your eyes snap open, and you look at him, surprised. “huh?”

“apologize,” he repeats, “for everything you said earlier. and i'll consider making you cum.”

that gets you to clench your jaw. you glare at him with narrowed eyes, chest heaving with frustration. but you won't do it. if anyone should be apologizing— it's him. he was the one who deceived you and ruined your life. and he hasn't apologized even once. he must think you're stupid. hell would freeze over before you apologize.

you almost reconsider your decision— but then again, his threat only stands if he leaves the players alive. he didn't say anything about language. you shake your head, your previous stubbornness taking over. “not a chance in hell.”

he snorts, looking at you, unamused. his facial expressions don't change, but you can see it in his eyes. little things like a twitch give him away. your heart drops as he pulls his hand out completely, his fingers glistening and wet. he brings them to his mouth, sucks the juices off so casually that it leaves you dumbfounded and flustered.

“i have no patience for brats.” he nods, standing up. you stutter over your words, mouth opening and closing like a fish. much like it did when you first met.

“b-but—”

“i have some work to do.” he announces coldly. you wonder if he's going to do something bad. he's having the time of his life, sexually and emotionally tormenting you. “i'll be back in a bit. i asked the guards to bring you some chocolate milk. feel free to tell them your favourite food for dinner.”

the sudden change in events has you so unbelievably baffled that you can't say a thing as he begins to leave. it's brutal, and it almost makes you want to cry.

“sir?” you call out softly, almost timidly. unsure of how to address him. you're not going to take a risk.

he stops midway, before sighing to himself. he turns to you, looks at the desperation in your eyes.

“inho is fine.” he remarks flatly, swallowing hard. he doesn't know why he decided to reveal his name to you.

perhaps because it would give him another excuse to not let go of you.

you keep looking at him, a devastated expression on your face. like you're dying inside. and maybe you are.

your only source of comfort is gone. you'd gotten too used to it in the past few days. now you wish you'd never met him.

the emotion on his face is unreadable as he walks back to you. he places a soft kiss to your forehead and turns to leave. you grab his hand. the prospect of being alone leaves you terrified. maybe if you can convince him to stay, be good for him, he wouldn't hurt your loved ones. you'll behave.

you start to miss how things used to be.

if things were different, he would have come back to you. he would smile as he walked through the door, and you would finally feel your heart pumping blood as you run to him. he'd drop his gun and hold you, and you'd cry into his chest. he'd ask you if you caused any trouble, and you would take him to your bed and tell him everything. you would tell him that 149 called him your father, and he would laugh— his old man laugh which sounds so sweet and makes his eyes crinkle. he would ruffle your hair and say something along the lines of, ‘with how many times i've saved your ass, i might as well be.’

from a younger age, all you've ever desired is comfort, something you never received. someone to hold you when you cry, to take care of you. protect you. you're sick of being the tough one. the mere idea of it was so far away for you, that the first show of affection and reassurance had you getting this terribly attached. perhaps, inho's biggest crime was taking that away from you.

“inho.” you whisper, visibly crushed. you don't even feel horny anymore. you just miss his comfort, his soft words of reassurance. his laugh. your eyes grow teary. “please don't leave me.”

he looks at you, contemplating. he sighs defeatedly, before grasping your hand properly. it's so warm, and you choke on a soft sob as the reality of your situation sinks in again. you're done for. there's no escape. you're alone, and there's no one to save you. your young-il will not come swooping in to protect you, because he was never there in the first place. you don't even realize when you break down into heartbreaking sobs, breathing ragged.

he isn't used to showing much physical affection. not after what he went through, not until you. and now with you like this, something softens within him. he sits back down on the bed, wordlessly leaning into you, his arms open. you feel utterly pathetic at how quickly you crawl into his lap, burying your face in his chest. you feel like you're betraying your team, but do you have a choice? perhaps you did. you could've chosen to be tough and refuse his affection. but the stakes are different now. your family's life is on the line.

you never stood a chance, not after you met him.

and you don't want to think of a single instance where you don't get to experience being held by him.

your morals are more fucked than you thought. even after all the threats, after him practically forcing you to stay, you can't help but desire his affection. you'll be selfish for once. what could you have done anyway? you would've died in there, and your family would be alone. if what he said is true, atleast now they can live a life of ease without any debts.

as for your team, 456 will look out for them. he's alive, afterall.

you force your mind to be silent.

“i miss you,” you wail painfully, your free hand clutching the fabric of his shirt.

he holds you like a child, a hand pressing your head close, the other wrapping around your waist. he shushes you gently, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. he doesn't regret anything he did. you'd made him promise to come back for you, afterall. he always keeps his word. “i'm right here.”

you lean into his neck, and breathe in the smell of him. you squeeze your eyes shut till your sobs die down into the occasional hiccup. the stretch of your right hand and the rattling of the chains is another reminder of where you are.

perhaps if you stay hidden against his chest, you can try to convince yourself it's still your young-il holding you like this.

A/N: so! that's the end of dusk till dawn. this story truly was my joker. i tend to add a lot of psychological elements and character interactions so the fic feels more immersive and realistic, like you're really part of the game. i hope you liked it. can y'all tell who my favourite characters are? lol. also, i'm very horrible with smut so i really tried but i just can't write too much 💔 I'm mostly an angst girl as you can tell. anyways, this was a little self indulgent. thank you so much for the support you guys showed me, it truly means everything! i might write blurbs related to this specific couple from time to time, but no promises! maybe if i get good ideas or requests. anyways i rambled a lot. thank you for reading. feedback is always motivating.

tags: @bonelessghoul @cowuies @auspicious-lilana @politicstanner @verouys @gloriousjellyfisharcade @carolinevoight @shadowmoonlight0604 @ancrygurl @sunoon @jessgentleman @colorwastaken @loversroq @clown-around-and-find-out @popcorm @xcinnamonmalfoyx @robertthehoover @iloveoldermen0204 @kpopsmutty69 @iamkali

#raven writes #frontman x reader #the frontman x reader smut #hwang inho x reader #hwang inho x you #squid game x reader #squid game x reader smut #squid game fanfic #salesman x reader #player 001 x reader #player 456 #young-il x reader #lee byung hun x reader

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